


New Year, New You

by ImGettingTooOldForThisShip



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: M/M, Thiefshipping, Thiefshipping Dirty Santa, post-canon thiefshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13123146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGettingTooOldForThisShip/pseuds/ImGettingTooOldForThisShip
Summary: Bakura wouldn't change a thing about his relationship with Malik. Unfortunately Malik's protective siblings do not share this point of view.Written as part of Sitabethel's Thiefshipping Dirty Santa (Fluff). The chosen prompt was: Ishizu (with Rishid’s silent approval) blackmails Bakura into making Marik happy or else, so Bakura ends up asking Ryou for advice





	1. 23rd December (Evening)

**Author's Note:**

> As part of the Thiefshipping Dirty Santa 2017 event, chapters will be appearing over the next couple of weeks to coincide with the festive period. I hope that everybody has a Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a Wonderful Winter. 
> 
> So many thanks are due to the amazing Sitabethel for letting me take part in this wonderful event and to the lovely Lily-Liegh for betaing for me.

The city had been thrown into chaos as thick snowflakes swirled through the air and settled down onto the street below coating everything with white. The first flakes had only begun to fall an hour ago but the damage had already been done. In spite of Ryou’s assurances that, due to its close proximity to the sea, Domino was unlikely to see much snow this winter, fluffy flakes dominated the skyline, falling thick and fast, and large as feathers. It looked for all the world as if some sky gods were hosting a particularly vigorous pillow fight on top of the clouds. 

Bakura pulled the blanket of the  _ kotatsu _ higher up his body and hooked his foot around the leg of the table to bring it, along with his heat source, closer. He couldn’t help but take a little delight from watching the pedestrians in the street trying to shield their heads with their makeshift umbrellas of newspapers, shopping bags and school binders. The cars certainly weren’t faring any better; the traffic was packed as neatly as Tetris blocks and the red glow of break-lights twinkled through the dark and made the snow glow crimson.

Although distant at first, Bakura’s ears picked up the sound of the pointed taps of Malik’s footsteps echoing down the hall. He couldn’t help but smile; it was unusual to hear Malik’s approach, and Bakura was convinced that the entirety of the Ishtar clan had inherited this particularly annoying trait. It certainly left him on edge when he was dragged to the Ishtars’ family gatherings as, even with Bakura’s sharp ears, they were forever sneaking up and startling him, whether intentional or not. He still wasn’t fully unconvinced that they weren’t just able to magic themselves into existence at will.

The sharp staccato of Malik’s steps disappeared away all at once and Bakura tore his gaze from the window to see a far superior sight. Malik was dressed in a crisp linen tunic, with understated gold embroidery. The designer jeans worn underneath were more familiar to Bakura’s eye; the compromise, he assumed. 

Bakura could feel the heat of Malik’s delicious anger even from where he was seated, halfway across the room and cocooned in Malik’s hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.

‘You look well,’ Bakura said, leaning back to better drink in the sight.

‘You aren’t dressed.’

‘I’m wearing clothes.’

Malik frowned folding his arms. ‘Dinner’s in an hour!’

‘Yes, dinner’s in an  _ hour _ ,’ Bakura replied. ‘It doesn’t take me an hour to get dressed.’

‘We still have to get there.’

‘It’s not halfway across town. It’s right on the corner.’

Malik sighed. ‘Bakura, for just for one day could you please—’

‘Ten more minutes,’ Bakura promised. ‘Then I’ll get dressed - it’ll take ten minutes - we’ll leave straight after and walk to Mori’s - that will take five minutes, at most - and then we’ll still be there thirty five minutes early. Twenty five, if your absurdly prompt siblings arrive ten minutes early.’

Malik’s shoulders visibly untensed.

‘That’s all I’m asking.’

‘And you still can’t hear how ridiculous that is?’

Malik circled the room, his footfall far more muted now as picked and adjusted at the pillows on the sofa.

‘It should take you longer than ten minutes to get ready,’ he added. ‘Any normal person would take at least half an hour if they were going out.’

Bakura leant back into his cushions. ‘And that’s why you find me so intoxicating; I’m far from normal.’

‘And don’t I know it.’

Bakura watched with concern as Malik repositioned a cushion back into its original spot again after having only just ‘tidied’ it seconds ago. He patted at the free spot beside himself. ‘Sit under the blankets.’

‘I don’t want to crumple this shirt.’

‘You won’t.’ He patted again at the table beside him, but Malik crossed over to the opposite side and tucked his legs carefully in, neatly pulling up the blanket and flattening his top.

‘Because heaven forfend you get a crease you need to iron out.’

Malik made a show of ignoring him and turned his attention out of the window where the bright glow of the streetlights highlighted his pretty features.

‘I mean, if you ended up having to iron that shirt we might only be twenty minutes early to dinner.’

Malik continued to watch out the window, relaxing into the chair a little as he tucked his side of the blanket up under his arms.

‘I mean, twenty minutes early? At that point it’s not even worth going.’

No response. 

Bakura leant back, stretching out his feet to find Malik’s as they were sneaking towards the heater for warmth. They sent a cold shock right up to his ankles as they touched, so he tucked them in between his own, resting his knee against Malik’s thigh as they watched the snowfall together.

‘I’ve never seen this much snow before,’ Malik said in hushed tones. ‘Twitter even has photos of snow on the beaches.’

Bakura raised an eyebrow. ‘Which beaches?’

‘I don’t know, I think it was further north. Jōdogahama, maybe.’

Bakura nodded. ‘That would be worth seeing.’

‘No.’

‘What?’ Bakura gave his leg a little nudge. ‘I was just saying—’

‘We’re still going to dinner.’

‘I didn’t say we weren’t.’

‘I knew where you were going with that.’ Malik gave him a calculated look and then returned to watching out the window. A little chorus of honks rang out from the trapped cars. ‘You need to get ready now.’ 

Malik pulled the blankets further up around himself, licking his lips as he watched out the window. He exhaled slowly, before his eye settled on the reflection of Bakura in the window.

‘Get dressed.’

‘It’s going to be a nightmare for them to find a cab,’ Bakura said. ‘They might even be late.’

‘If it’s snowing they’ll only arrive earlier to compensate.’

Bakura held up his hands in surrender.

‘Fine, I’m going.’

He untangled himself from Malik and ventured a leg out from under the covers. The cool air rushed in to meet him but he pushed on regardless, leaving Malik to his people-watching. 

Bakura inspected the damage in the bathroom mirror, cringing as the light above the mirror illuminated him with a harsh unforgiving light that only served to exaggerate the pallor that was ever creeping into his copper complexion. It certainly didn’t do anything for the shadows forming under his eyes either, Bakura thought, as he rubbed at them gently with his thumb. He couldn’t exactly blame his old host’s body for this one anymore.

Well, it couldn’t be helped. Dropping his initial inspection, Bakura gave himself a cat’s lick of a wash: face, neck, underarms and hands, and doused himself in deodorant. He nudged his cast off garments into a heap in the corner of the bathroom to tidy up, and went to his bedroom to find the burgundy shirt that Malik liked. 

‘Eight minutes and four seconds,’ Bakura announced as he returned to the living room, flicking his collar out the right way. ‘That gives us a luxurious minute and fifty-six seconds to play with.’

Malik didn’t respond. He didn’t even look up. Bakura took a few tentative steps forward to get a better look and could see that Malik had crumpled himself into the corner of the chair, the blanket pulled right up to his chin. 

‘Malik?’

Nothing. 

Bakura pushed himself forward to investigate and perched carefully on the edge of Malik’s seat, observing his face reflected in the window, his expression a little vacant and unfocused.

_ Shit. _

Bakura chewed over his words as if they were a particularly old piece of gum, before he ventured forward with something. ‘Malik, do you…’

‘We should get there early.’ He didn’t turn around, although he did reach up to brush a stray bang back behind his ear. ‘We need to leave soon.’

‘Okay.’

Neither moved, and Bakura held out a hand hesitantly, hovering above Malik’s shoulder a moment, before deciding against it and resting his hand just on his forearm. 

Malik flinched, instant as lightning, and Bakura immediately withdrew his hand.  _ Fuck. _

‘We should stay in,’ he offered. ‘We’ll order in.’

‘No, we’re going out. We decided that.’

‘They decided, and fuck that. They know better than anybody about this day, and they’re still dragging you out?’

‘It’s better to get out of the house.’

‘Then you can do that tomorrow.’

‘You just want to get out of this dinner.’ Malik finally tore his gaze away from the window and gave a weak smile.

‘Never,’ Bakura replied, his heart lifting a little as he met Malik’s eye. ‘I’m getting the chance to spend an evening with your brother silently judging me for my poor life choices, while your sister vocalises every single grievance she’s ever had, and somehow manages to blame it all on me. Why the delay? Let’s get started now.’

‘They aren’t that bad.’

Malik leant back, resting his head against Bakura’s chest, and Bakura froze as if the slightest breath or fidget might break the spell.

‘Ishizu is definitely that bad,’ Bakura insisted. ‘She only arrived last week and I’ve already been interrogated about career plans, exercise routines and my obviously sinister intentions for her sweet, innocent, little brother.’

‘That’s called making conversation,’ Malik said glancing up to Bakura. ‘You should try it sometime.’

‘They hate me,’ Bakura said. ‘I’m not losing sleep over it, but it does—’

‘Rishid likes you.’

‘And Ishizu?’

There was a pause.

‘Ishizu doesn’t know you.’

‘So she just needs to get to know me more?’

‘Actually… she could probably do with knowing you a little less.’

Bakura smiled at that one.

‘Fine, I’ll make my peace with them. Let’s go.’

He moved to get up, but Malik stayed in place.

‘It’s still early.’

‘Well, we’re only thirty-five minutes early.’

‘We could afford another ten minutes.’ 

Bakura gave a nod in agreement before Malik added, ‘Maybe even fifteen.’

The snow was still falling heavily outside, threatening now to build up on the window pane and block their view. Bakura pulled the corner of the blanket up to tuck around himself while Malik settled in to watch the snow.

‘You know, I’m not exactly a fan of Ishizu either,’ Bakura continued, ‘whether she likes me or not. Have you noticed that all of her stories about work are the exact same? “Oh we found this massive rock last week, and it was ever so exciting, and only so slightly different from the other massive rock we discovered last week.”’

He heard a suppressed chuckle as he rested his chin on the top of Malik’s head.

‘She doesn’t sound like that,’ Malik insisted.

Bakura scoffed, ‘She sounds exactly like that. “Oh, but the best news was that  _ this  _ massive rock had three dashes on the back instead of two. It was the best day ever and the whole archaeology department just creamed themselves in delight…’


	2. 23rd December (Night)

The two Ishtars were already seated at a table with a pot of tea by the time Malik and Bakura arrived just after eight.

Malik brushed a flurry of sopping snowflakes out of his hair as he struggled to remove his coat while Bakura threw his up on the hooks. He ran his fingers through his own hair to try and comb the weather out of it, giving a final shake of his head to try and revitalise the damp rat-tails that clung to his face. 

Malik finally got his arm out of the coat and hung it up before immediately striding over to his siblings. Bakura hovered a moment at the coat hooks, watching as Ishizu jumped up to embrace her brother, the wide sleeves of her embroidered dress nearly hiding him from view. Bakura was certain that he’d seen some statue with a similar pose, a maternal goddess embracing the embodiment of mankind in some kind of redeeming action, and as Bakura approached the family his ear caught some whispered words of an Arabic sentiment. 

Bakura shuffled awkwardly to the side attempting to secure the corner seat but was blocked by the pair. He considered just pushing on past them but held his patience, giving Rishid a nod by means of a greeting which was returned. 

After one last kiss on the cheek, they finally broke apart, and, with a gentle hand on his shoulder, Ishizu guided Malik to the corner seat and slipped easily down beside him, complimenting his attire as she switched seamlessly from Arabic to Japanese.

Bakura eyed up the last free seat beside Rishid which faced Ishizu.  _ Oh joy. _

Without a word, Rishid stood shuffling along and nudging his cup to the side. He held out an arm, gesturing to allow Bakura a seat opposite Malik.

‘Thanks,’ Bakura mumbled, shifting along the bench and trying not to tense when he felt Rishid’s hand on his back, to guide him along.

‘We were in the park, and the children were all laughing and playing in it,’ Ishizu told Malik as she poured him a cup of green tea from the pot. ‘But half of them are out in thin little coats and I saw three without any gloves on.’

She passed the cup to Malik and began to pour another.

‘They’ll be warm from all the running,’ Malik assured her raising the cup to his face and appreciating the scent.

‘Well it was so nice to see them enjoying themselves,’ Ishizu continued, passing a fresh cup of tea to Bakura. ‘Did you see the snow, Bakura?’

‘No, funnily enough I walked here blindfolded.’

Malik made a small spluttering sound into his cup and Ishizu gave a polite smile.

‘I suppose it would be very hard to miss.’

They ordered a little of everything on Malik and Bakura’s recommendation, and Bakura sat back to let Malik take the lead in the conversation. The presence of his siblings had appeared to soothe him in a way that Bakura could only wonder at it, and, annoyingly, perhaps they were right that distractions from brooding were exactly what Malik needed.

‘This really is a quaint little spot,’ Ishizu enthused as she took in her surroundings. ‘Very cosy, but we nearly missed it with all the tall buildings around it. It’s so small it was almost perfectly hidden.’

‘Apparently Mori’s has always been Mori’s,’ Malik said as he adjusted his chopsticks and repositioned them again. ‘Everything else grew up around it, but Mori’s stayed the same. I wouldn’t have known about it if it weren’t for Bakura.’

‘Oh, how did you find out about it?’ Ishizu asked, focusing back on Bakura. ‘We must have walked past it three times and we were specifically looking for it.’

‘I used to come here with Ryou.’

‘Used to?’ 

Bakura turned his attention back to his tea cup and drained the rest of the liquid to avoid Ishizu’s look. 

‘Oh.’

Ishizu opened her mouth as if to say something further but faltered.

‘Well, Ryou must have good taste,’ Rishid said breaking the silence. ‘There are good smells coming from the kitchen.’

The sushi arrived shortly afterwards and was soon shared out. Bakura quickly sniped a couple of salmon nigiri and butterflied prawns as Malik gave the little tourist speech on the proper order of eating sushi to Rishid and Ishizu.

‘Just do the opposite of what Bakura does,’ he finished, with a pointed look darted in his direction as Bakura picked up a maki roll and unpeeled the nori, dropping it on his plate.

‘You’re encouraged to use your hands,’ Bakura defended.

Malik didn’t retaliate, but with good food in their bellies the conversation began to flow more freely. 

‘How is work going, Ishizu?’ Bakura asked as the last of the dishes were cleared away. He gave a quick wink across to Malik. ‘Any new discoveries… of the geological kind?’ 

Malik shot him a pointed look.

‘Oh, my trip doesn’t have any fieldwork components this time, thank the gods,’ Ishizu replied holding her cup of tea up to warm her face. ‘And in this weather I’m thankful for that. Why do you ask?’

‘Just making conversation,’ Bakura shrugged, smiling sweetly back to Malik.

‘It is really interesting though,’ Ishizu continued. ‘I’m working with the Bando Hiroaki Collection and it has original copies of Ohashi’s field journals.’

She gave a glance around the table her eyes sparkling and then cleared her throat. ‘He’s a nineteenth century archaeologist who made significant discoveries in Luxor. He’s one of the men responsible for finding an important Pharaoh’s tomb and salvaged the treasures of his burial chamber.’

‘You know I was once very good at ‘salvaging’ the treasures from old kings’ tombs, yet nobody called my work significant.’ Bakura chuckled.

‘Did you create an itemised, alphabetised catalogue of your findings, cross-referenced with contemporary sources?’

Bakura snapped his fingers. ‘I knew there was something I forgot to do.’

Ishizu smiled warmly at the joke, a rare honour indeed.

‘Ohashi’s catalogue is famous, and I’m officially here to negotiate the loan of them for the exhibit, but I couldn’t help noticing that the Bando collection also contains his discredited translations of the Katherrad tablet.’

‘And this tablet, is it sizable?’ Bakura asked, ignoring Malik’s ice-cold stare.

Ishizu’s brow knitted. ‘It certainly has a large amount of text on it,’ she said carefully. ‘It looks like trade regulations.’

‘So this tablet is a very important, very large, rock?’

Bakura could catch Malik slowly shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

‘It’s a useless, very important, very large rock without the correct translation. But that’s where things get interesting.’ Ishizu leant forward, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

‘The manuscript is heavily annotated with original notes, and if taken into account they could prove that the methodology itself is flawless; it’s was only his sources and reference data that made the translation unusable.’

Malik nodded along and seemed for all the world like he was intrigued by the topic, while all Bakura could focus on was recalling the amount of times in the past that Ishizu had used the blatant lie ‘this is where things get interesting.’ 

‘We could get a project funded off it if we act fast, so the trip’s been extended to gather evidence for a funding proposal. 

Now she had his attention. 

‘You’re extending your trip?’ Bakura asked, glancing across to Malik, who looked just as puzzled as he did. ‘How long?’

‘It looks like we’ll get another two weeks,’ Ishizu said, ‘But I’m only going to get the benefit of one. The library is closed for New Year’s Week.’ 

‘Have you spoken to Ryou about it?’ Malik asked. ‘His father might be able to allow you access to the library outside of opening hours.’

‘Oh, no I hadn’t,’ Ishizu admitted, tapping her finger pensively. ‘That would be wonderful; any extra time I could get with the manuscripts would be helpful. Could you broach the subject for me?’

‘You could ask him now,’ Malik said, nodding in the direction of the doorway. 

Bakura craned his neck around as he swivelled in his spot to see the doors. Sure enough, Ryou had just arrived, large clumps of snow congealed into the rough wool of his coat. He immediately gravitated towards the heater in the wall as he removed it. Their eyes met as he began to shrug it off and his features lit up. He gave a wave, but then his smile faltered.

‘Would he like to sit with us?’ Ishizu asked. ‘I could ask him in person but I don’t want to put him… Oh, is he leaving again?’

Ryou had turned back to gather up his things when Yugi appeared through the doorway, shaking with the cold. 

Bakura glanced to Malik who had gone a little still. He nudged his head in Rishid and Ishizu’s direction hoping that Malik would understand the pressing question. 

He only got a slight shrug back in response.  _ That wasn’t helpful. _

Yugi’s fingers slipped over his coat buttons as he attempted to remove the item, while Ryou hastily attempted to usher him back out, but Yugi kept lingering.  

‘We should go,’ Malik said, and Bakura immediately started to grab his things.

‘But your friends have just gotten here,’ Ishizu said.

Ryou appeared to be broaching some subject with Yugi, possibly to the same effect when Yugi’s eyes found their table, and, armed with his friendliest smile, he immediately headed their way.

_ Shit. _

‘Malik-kun! Bakura-kun!’

‘He doesn’t know,’ Bakura blurted out hurriedly. ‘Mutou, he just thinks I’m a relation of Ryou’s, not… He’s not aware of… of what happened, how Ryou—’

‘I see you’ve already met my cousin,’ Ryou called out to the table hurriedly jogging to catch up to Yugi. ‘I didn’t realise you’d be here.’

Ishizu glanced to Malik first as if to confirm the story, and then gave a gentle nod to the two of them. Bakura breathed out finding the knot that had formed in his stomach easing slightly. 

‘Happy birthday, Malik-kun,’ Yugi greeted as he reached their table; his coat was still fastened, and he was missing one of his gloves.

Malik gave a polite smile. ‘Thank you.’

‘Are you having a good birthday?’ Ryou asked as he caught up to their table. 

‘Yes, I’ve been able to celebrate with my family here this year.’

‘Yes, Ishizu-san, Rishid-san, it’s good to see you again,’ Yugi chirped in.

‘And it’s a pleasure to meet you both again.’

‘Yugi-kun, your coat,’ Ryou fretted. He placed a hand on Yugi’s shoulder to begin to draw him away from the table and back to the coat hooks at the door. 

‘Please, you must sit with us,’ Ishizu offered. ‘If it isn’t too inconvenient, I’d like to talk to Ryou-kun about a matter at the museum.’ 

‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Ryou gave a little nod and followed Yugi, helping him out of the coat and removing his own gloves

‘Are they together?’ Rishid asked, as Yugi reminded Ryou that he was still wearing his scarf and stood up on his toes to unwrap him from it.

‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Bakura said, tearing his piece of omelette into small pieces.

‘Well, I think it’s good that they found each other,’ Ishizu said. ‘I think that they could help one another, especially with all they’ve been through.’

Bakura snapped his head in her direction but Ishizu was preoccupied with folding her used towelette into a neat little triangle as she watched the couple; her expression as serene and perfect as a still lake.

‘You’ve decided not to tell Yugi who Bakura is?’ Rishid asked.

‘Ryou thought that it might stir up bad memories so soon after his loss,’ Malik said, ‘and we decided to respect that.’

‘So Yugi doesn’t know about Ryou’s involvement in that affair?’ Ishizu asked.

Bakura managed to suppress a snort of laughter at how easily Ishizu managed to sanctify rituals of the occult, as if they were no more unusual than a moderate scandal between housewives.

‘Obviously not,’ Bakura said curtly.

With a quick word to Mori, Ryou and Yugi returned to the table.

‘It’s good to see you again,’ Ryou said warmly as they took their seats. ‘I didn’t realise you were arriving so soon.’

‘I was supposed to travel in February, but I got it moved up so I could visit my brother on his birthday.’

Malik smiled politely as he gathered up the stray strands of rice over his plate and formed them into a neat little pile with his chopsticks.

‘I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,’ Bakrua said to the pair. ‘Aren’t you going out tomorrow too?’

‘Mori’s doesn’t count,’ Ryou said, his eyes darting to Bakura’s plate of leftover pieces. Bakura pulled his plate a little closer.

‘So where are you going tomorrow night then?’ Malik asked.

‘It’s a surprise,’ Yugi said, his eyes alight. ‘Bakura-kun… ummm… Ryou, is setting up a trail of clues and puzzles to lead me to the place.’

‘Well, that’s stupid,’ Bakura said. ‘How can you book a table if you won’t know what time he’ll be there?’

‘Oh, I’ve factored flexibility into it,’ Ryou assured him. ‘There are a couple of puzzles that I think will slow him down but—’

‘He’ll clear them in five minutes.’

‘It’ll be a challenge,’ Ryou laughed. ‘But I have the means to slow him down if I need to.’

‘And Ryou’s very good at creating puzzles and games,’ Yugi chimed in. ‘I don’t think I’ll beat the games that quickly.’ 

‘Don’t buy his act,’ Bakura said jabbing his chopsticks in Yugi’s direction. ‘He’ll fly through them. Give him an hour less than you think he needs.’ 

Having torn the omelette into the most minute pieces that appeared possible Bakura finally picked one up one of the pieces and popped it into this mouth.

‘Well I think it’s very thoughtful,’ Ishizu said, rewarding the two with a warm smile. ‘What’s the occasion? Is it an anniversary tomorrow?’

‘Oh no, it’s just Christmas Eve,’ Yugi explained. ‘All couples go and eat somewhere fancy that night.’

‘The clue hunt isn’t traditional though,’ Ryou added. ‘But we wanted to try something fun. I like making puzzles and Yugi likes solving them.’

_ A perfect match _ , Bakura finished internally for them, and Ishizu was just eating it all up. 

‘Are you two going somewhere nice as well then?’

Bakura started from his daze as he looked questioningly back at Rishid for the impromptu question.

‘No, we don’t have any plans,’ Malik answered for them. 

‘It’s not our thing,’ Bakura pushed. ‘Just a cheap money grab the hotels and restaurants dreamt up.’

‘But you have no plans at all?’ Ishizu asked. ‘Nothing special, even back at home that night?’

Bakura set his jaw, ‘Well if we must, I could always shower the apartment in rose petals and give Malik a quick f–’

‘Ishizu-san, how has your trip been?’ Yugi interrupted. ‘You said you were working at the museum in Domino?’

Ishizu was only too happy to oblige with an answer and the mundane chattering sound of polite conversation surrounded their end of the table. The proper couple and the proper siblings all in perfect harmony; warm and friendly compared to their end where Bakura could feel the chill radiating off Malik. He risked a glance in his direction only to see a look of disapproval that Ishizu herself would have been proud of.

_ What? _ he mouthed.  _ It was funny. _

‘Not to my sister,’ Malik hissed back.

‘So she thinks you’re a monk?’

‘No risk of that with you around.’

‘We couldn’t give you your own key, for the insurance reasons,’ Ryou said slowly, thinking out loud as Ishizu poured him a cup of tea. 

‘Oh no, I certainly wouldn’t expect you to, but if there was anyone who might be able to let me in.’

‘All the staff will be off premise and my father is away on business, or he would be happy to help you,’ Ryou said, rubbing at the back of his neck while he thought it over. ‘I would have done it but I’ll be away with Yugi, Malik and Bakura for that week too. I could definitely get you some time on the first day of public closure, but it’s everything after that--’

Malik reached carefully over for Bakura’s plate, who, deciding it was not worth dissuading him, nudged it forward to sit between them so Malik could take whatever scrap took his fancy.

‘If you aren’t going to be able to do the work anyway you should come to the cabin with us.’

Bakura’s blood chilled as he heard Yugi’s voice pipe up. It was that oblivious optimism and Yugi’s own particular brand of reasoning that assumed everyone shared this world view that reminded Bakura of the underrated joy of murder. 

‘We couldn’t intrude,’ Rishid said.

‘There are plenty of beds and rooms, Rishid-kun,’ Yugi offered. ‘It’s a beautiful place too.’

‘It would be nice to have you there,’ Malik added, the betrayal stinging Bakura to his core. ‘We rarely see each other and never for long.’ 

‘We could have a proper visit, and a holiday’ Ishizu supposed wistfully. ‘But we wouldn’t be making things difficult?’  

_ Yes _ ! Gods, the answer was  _ yes _ ! Of course it was creating hassle, and if she bothered to talk to anyone who wasn’t Ryou and Yugi, she’d see that right away too. 

‘Of course not; it would be good to have you,’ Malik insisted. ‘We can celebrate New Year’s together.’

‘It’ll be quiet,’ Yugi added. ‘It’s far from any towns, but we’re going to bring lots of games and supplies, and hold up inside.’

‘It’ll be very relaxing,’ Ryou agreed, ‘and in the snow the woods will be beautiful.’

Within minutes the entire evening’s conversation had been hijacked as plans were eagerly pitched for the next week before they finally parted ways so that Ryou and Yugi could enjoy the rest of their evening. 

Bakura grabbed his coat and swung it on, standing by the door while the Ishtars loitered, often pausing in the middle of assembling their winter-wear to add some new anecdote or pose another idea for an exhausting holiday activity. 

Bakura grit his teeth as he watched Ishizu reach down to button her coat, only to pause for the third time, her fingers mere centimetres from the plastic, to ask if there might be any hot springs near the cabin. 

‘Oi oi,’ Bakura called as he watched her threaten to repeat the action a fourth time. ‘We can plan it later.’

‘If it’s so soon we should agree upon some kind of itinerary,’ Ishizu reasoned, finally slipping the button into the button hole and Bakura could practically hear the Hallelujah chorus as she did so. ‘It’s exciting to make plans, and we need to be on the same page for transport and what to bring.’

But that wasn’t what they were discussing. They were managing to somehow converse about every topic imaginable and plot to keep Malik tied up in activities with them for the whole week.

‘Pack clothes,’ Bakura sniped. ‘That’s what people normally bring on a vacation, and they don’t need to discuss it at length first.’

‘Bakura,’ Malik warned.

‘By all means continue,’ Bakura said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, ‘but I’m going to run ahead and turn on the heating so the flat won’t feel like a fridge when you get back. I’ll see you at home.’

The cold air hit Bakura like a slap as he stepped outside, and he pulled his coat tighter about him, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

How? How had they managed to turn the night around so quickly? He was sure Mutou was to blame, or maybe Ryou, but the damage was done now. He kicked what looked like the abandoned base for a snowman off the sidewalk and onto the road taking delight as it disintegrated into great messy blobs. He stopped just to nudge every last bit of its remains into the gutter with the toe of his shoe, content just to have this small project when that familiar voice interrupted him.

‘Bakura, wait.’

He considered pretending not to hear her and walking on. He reckoned that at a brisk pace he could make it to the apartment building’s door before she could catch him up, but he’d pay for it the next week. Would it be worth it though? 

‘Just checking up to see I’m not a secret smoker?’ he asked pointedly as Ishizu caught up to him. Her scarf was wrapped up close to her face and caught her every steamed breath in the knit. 

‘I just want to have a civil conversation.’

‘I have had enough conversation for today.’

He turned to go.

‘I’m not your enemy, Bakura,’ Ishizu said before he could leave.

Bakura could only gawk back. ‘Given our history…’

‘We agreed to set that past aside, given the circumstances,’ Ishizu continued. ‘I certainly did, Rishid did, but I don’t know if you have. A truce is impossible if one party is still trying to fight the war.’

Bakura scoffed, the sound out of his mouth before he could even consider stifling the sound. ‘I’m the one causing trouble here?’

Ishizu fixed him with a careful look, her eyes unwavering from his face as she considered this statement. ‘Unfortunately, I think that you can be quite a negative force, and worryingly anti-social. I don’t think that’s what Malik needs right now.’

‘Is this little speech off the cuff, or have you been practicing it in the mirror all week?’

‘That cynicism isn’t needed, Bakura,’ Ishizu continued. ‘And Malik is at a very delicate stage in rebuilding his life. That kind of negativity—’

‘Is like water off a duck’s back to him. He’s used to it.’

‘And doesn’t that bother you?’ Ishizu’s voice rose loud and clear through the street, her scarf slipping down her face to coil in a messy loop about her throat. ‘You must know that Malik never forgave himself; that he would willingly seek out any means to punish himself for the deeds of the past. He couldn’t just shake that off.’

‘So I’m the punishment,’ Bakura finished for her. ‘I’m the unreasonable trial that he forces himself to endure.’

Ishizu met his stare, her eyes focused while her sharp breaths fed the air and swirled around her face like dragon smoke. 

‘We both know how Malik thinks—’

Bakura laughed at that one.

‘And Malik would never pick someone who was kind to him.’ 

Bakura looked away. ‘That’s bullshit.’ 

He turned to make his way back to the safety of the apartment, pushing through the fresh snow, and, by the sounds of Ishizu’s footfall behind him, clearing a neat little path for her to follow behind him.

‘We both know that he doesn’t think he deserves kindness,’ Ishizu called out to his retreating back. ‘He’s not going to let himself feel peace or contentment when his conscious is so troubled.’

Bakura rounded the corner to find the main door and began to hurriedly sort through his pockets to find the keys with his numb fingers. 

‘I’m not saying this to hurt you, please believe me when I say that, Bakura,’ Ishizu said appearing at his side. ‘I have so much admiration for how you’ve managed to carve out a life yourself.’

‘You just don’t want it close enough to corrupt your brother’s.’ 

Without the sensation of touch, Bakura had taken to using a scooping motion to try and gather up the keys somehow, which promptly fell out of his pocket and into the middle of the grey slush on the doorstep.

‘I just want Malik to be happy.’

Bakura snatched the keys from the snow, and fumbled trying to get them in the lock, hitting every part of the door except the keyhole like a drunk sorority girl trying to pop her earring back in after a long night out.

‘So you want me to break up with him?’

‘I don’t think that necessarily has to take place. This goal shouldn’t be mutually exclusive, Bakura. Surely we  _ both _ want Malik to be happy.’

‘Then we don’t need to have this conversation.’

Bakura finally found the lock and threw the door open, stumbling inside quickly to get out of the cold. ‘Good night.’

He threw the door closed behind him, locking out Ishizu and the cold windchill. Blocking out the harsh white glow of the streetlamps, the hall was thrown into darkness and Bakura took a moment to appreciate its calmness before his eyes adjusted the gloom and everything became too nuanced and noisy again.

There was a rap of knuckles on the door, spoiling this rare moment of solitude before Ishizu started calling out to him.

‘I’ll tell Mutou Yugi who you really are.’

Bakura sighed, caught at the front door, and considering if he could just leave for the apartment without Ishizu noticing.

He could just go back upstairs, pretend he hadn’t heard. It would be so so easy. 

Bakura cursed as he opened the door to Ishizu once more. She stood just off the step, polite as a carol singer and twice as expectant.

‘Why should that concern me?’

‘You’re the one who opened the door,’ she noted. ‘I’ve seen that you care for Ryou in some respect, so if you aren’t going to do this for Malik’s sake then do it for Ryou.’

Bakura raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re blackmailing me.’

‘I’m providing you with motivation.’

‘To do what?’

‘To treat my brother better.’

‘I treat him fair enough; I’m not some drunk, abusive asshole.’

Ishizu flinched a little, but tried to hide the movement as a deliberate attempt to adjust her hand to pull a strand of hair behind her ear.

‘Just show him kindness,’ she stressed. ‘Like Yugi and Ryou. Maybe you could act more like that instead of shooting anything down the second—’

‘I didn’t shoot anything down; I was giving them advice.’

‘I saw you sneering at every thoughtful deed or action of theirs,’ Ishizu continued. ‘Do you not ever think about how good it could be for Malik to see that someone cared that much for him? To be surrounded by love; I think it could be very healing for him.’

‘We don’t need fixing. We’re fine.’

‘I wasn’t  _ asking _ .’

Bakura baulked, but Ishizu stood steadfast and strong.

‘We’ll be spending New Year’s week at the cabin. It’s traditionally a time for self-reflection and new beginnings. Why not take this as a chance to prove that you can do better, to be there for my brother and actually act like a couple. You could pamper him for once, show him that somebody in this world thinks he’s worthwhile.’

Bakura opened his mouth, but Ishizu evidentially hadn’t said her piece yet. ‘I won’t negotiate on any of these points, and if I can see that you aren’t trying I will tell Yugi the truth, I can promise you that.’

‘Is that all?’ Bakura asked through gritted teeth. ‘You don’t want to throw any other conditions in there? Do your shopping, sweep your floor? Maybe you could have me build you a summer house or…’

‘Just make him happy,’ Ishizu said quietly. ‘I know these things don’t come easily, and I wish that this task hadn’t fallen to you.’ 

For a moment Bakura thought that he had seen her eyes shimmer but she had turned her back to him before he had a chance to see if it had only been a trick of the light. She took a step forward and then paused.

‘I don’t want you to be some means of self-flagellation, Bakura,’ Ishizu said. She started to walk to the sushi bar before calling back over her shoulder, ‘You don’t need to be his punishment; I’d rather you were his reward.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again many thanks are due to wonderful Lily-Liegh who was my beta for this chapter. Her own entry for this event is now up on her ao3 account and I wholeheartedly recommend it.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and all reviews are greatly appreciated.


	3. 24th December

Bakura was certain that he could have woken the dead with the hammering he gave Ryou’s front door. He frowned as he waited, and then started pacing. He had to be here, even if he was spending the night with Yugi they usually came to Ryou’s place instead of Yugi’s. Bakura rapped on the door again for good measure. Ryou was definitely here, and he wasn’t going to be ignored. He considered shouting in when he heard footsteps approaching. 

Ryou creaked his front door open ajar. His eyes quickly found Bakura, and he blinked a couple of times, as if trying to capture as many images of this intruder as possible.

‘Bakura?’

‘Is that an actual question?’ 

‘No, I just don’t understand why you’re here at…’ Ryou glanced behind himself down the hallway. ‘One thirty in the morning.’

‘I can’t visit an old friend?’

‘Oh, do they live in this building too?’

‘Very funny.’ Bakura pushed the door open wider and strode past Ryou to hunt out a soft chair in the living room. He kicked off his damp sneakers in the direction of the shoe rack and went on in. ‘We have a problem.’

Bakura made his way to the living room, ready to crash onto the sofa when he saw a flurry of papers coating the furniture. He turned to Ryou who had followed him through and had preoccupied himself with filling a kettle from the tap. He caught Bakura’s eye as he put it on to heat and looked over the sofa. 

‘The next campaign,’ Ryou explained as Bakura picked up a stray character sheet and started to read. ‘I’ll clear you a space in a moment; it’s just that I have them in a very particular order.’

‘Well, obviously,’ Bakura thought as he examined the post-it notes on the floor, one of which simply read ‘4’. It was underlined several times. He turned it over in his hands, noting that the back was blank as Ryou raced around the seating area to clear a couple of cushions and gather up handfuls of paper into one large messy pile with his ink stained fingers.

‘What is four?’ Bakura asked, retaining the post-it note as Ryou held out an expectant hand for it.

‘An important number,’ Ryou said catching the note back off Bakura and planting it into the middle of his papers.

‘I thought you would be too busy plotting for tomorrow.’ Bakura finally settled himself on a newly cleared spot on the sofa, sinking into the well-worn cushions and leaning back.

‘Oh, I completed that weeks ago,’ Ryou said carefully removing the paper pile and returning to the kitchen to make up the tea. ‘I made the very last preparations before Mori’s.’

Bakura nodded, watching as Ryou whisked up the matcha powder and prepared two cups of tea.

‘So, what’s the problem?’ Ryou asked, seating himself down beside Bakura and setting the cups of green tea before them.

‘Ishizu.’

‘She seemed nice,’ Ryou said taking a measured sip of his tea. He froze mid sip, and carefully lowered the cup. Bakura could see that the little colour he had, had drained from his face. ‘Oh.’

‘Exactly.’ Bakura took a long draft from the cup, and wiped a spare drop from his mouth with the back of his hand. 

‘She doesn’t feel comfortable lying to Yugi-kun?’

‘No, but she is more than comfortable enough to use that to blackmail me.’ 

Ryou took a sip of his tea and set the cup down. 

‘You need to tell Malik,’ Ryou said, meeting Bakura’s eye. ‘She shouldn’t go behind Malik’s back like that.’

‘I do have some pride. I’m not going to go running to hide behind Malik every time his sister growls a little.’

‘But what’s the alternative, break up with Malik? You love each other.’

‘Love is a strong word.’

Ryou smiled at that one, and Bakura pushed himself off the sofa with a roll of his eyes to escape his smug, little aura. 

‘She doesn’t want me to break up with Malik,’ Bakura said snatching up one of the painted figures from Ryou’s shelves and examining it in the lamp light.

Ryou’s shading had greatly improved from the last time he’d seen his work; his detailed  paint-job certainly had more care now, and Bakura could make out each of individual links of the gold chain that the character was wearing.

‘She doesn’t want you to… your spirit, to move on , does she?’

Bakura snorted. ‘She’d love that I’m sure.’

He picked up another figure and compared the two. ‘You use blue too much. They look the same.’

‘They’re supposed to be identical,’ Ryou explained. ‘I’m going to paint another one too and then add some decayed features to two of them. Our latest party is going to have a blood curse’. 

Bakura set the figures down. 

‘So they’ll have to hunt for potions to reverse the damage but each stage will have different benefits and handicaps, especially against different enemy types,’ Ryou explained. ‘But the curse is fatal if it progresses too far, so they have to balance the risks.’ 

‘That sounds like a nightmare to DM.’ 

‘It’s a challenge,’ Ryou admitted with a smile. ‘But I can’t wait to see how each of the party members will use it.’ 

Ryou took a sip of his tea.

‘Bakura, what did Ishizu ask you—’

‘Command me,’ Bakura corrected. ‘This was not a request.’

‘What does she want you to do?’

‘Act like couple.’

Ryou didn’t say anything, and Bakura turned back around from the shelf to gauge his reaction.

‘And?’ Ryou prompted.

‘There’s no ‘and’. She wants us to be just like you and Mutou.’

Ryou laughed, dropping back onto the sofa and wiping the stray strands of hair from his eyes. ‘Is that all?’

‘What do you mean, “is that all”?’

‘She’s only looking out for her brother.’

‘And she can do that without involving me.’

‘You’re part of Malik’s life.’

‘And she wishes I wasn’t.’

Ryou sat a little straighter and adopted a more sober countenance. ‘But she’s not telling you to leave him alone, just to treat him properly.’

‘Ryou, do you not see the problem here?’ Bakura snapped. ‘Ishizu Ishtar is going to be poking her unusually inquisitive nose into my life and telling me what to do.’

‘She does live in Egypt,’ Ryou noted. ‘So I don’t think she’ll really—’

‘Oh, but she’s going to be there for the cabin break now that you invited her.’

‘I wasn’t the one who invited her.’

‘And she’ll be watching us the whole time that we’re there, waiting for me to slip up.’

‘But you love Malik,’ Ryou said, hurriedly adding as he heard Bakura draw breath, ‘and you aren’t bad to him. Ishizu will see that. Just be nice.’

‘I am nice to Malik.’

‘But overtly. Act like you love him; let him see how you feel.’

‘He knows how I feel,’ Bakura stressed. He leant back against the wall, the heel of his foot resting against the wallpaper. ‘If I make it any more obvious, he’ll just hold it over me.’

He could see Ryou fidgeting uncomfortably on the sofa.

‘That’s not what relationships should be about,’ Ryou said as frustratingly calm and matter-of-fact as a ‘life coach’. ‘Um, Bakura-kun, could you please move your foot…’

‘So now you have an opinion on me and Malik,’ Bakura said, wiggling his shoulders as he got comfortable against the wall. ‘Are you going to join the blackmailing team now too?’

Ryou frowned and pushed himself off the sofa.

‘You don’t have to get defensive. I’m just saying that your relationship isn’t a competition.’ Ryou took Bakura by the shoulder and guided him back to the sofa. ‘Your tea is getting cold.’

‘If it was a competition Malik would be winning.’

‘Nobody is winning.’

‘Not with Ishizu getting involved, anyway.’

‘Bakura, your tea.’

Bakura made an exaggerated show of picking up the cup for Ryou, and drained it in one go. He raised an eyebrow. ‘Satisfied?’

‘You’re impossible.’

Bakura rolled the empty cup around the tabletop, spinning it on its side.

‘Tell Yugi who I really am,’ Bakura said, watching the little porcelain cup twirl.

Ryou spluttered and awkwardly attempted to turn it into a delicate little cough in his hand.

‘No,’ he choked out, clearing his throat.

‘Why not?’

‘I’m not going to ruin my relationship with Yugi-kun just so you can win some imagined competition with Malik.’

‘Honesty is the foundation of a loving relationship,’ Bakura said with every piece of sentiment he could muster. 

Ryou shot him a dirty look.

‘The moment isn’t right.’

‘It’s perfect for me.’

‘Well it’s not right for us,’ Ryou stressed. ‘That’s what matters.’

Bakura spun the cup again and watched it wobble over the table as if it might give him some answer. 

‘You need to tell him one day,’ he said. 

Ryou didn’t answer at first and Bakura looked up to check that he was listening, but Ryou was just running his finger along the rim of his cup.

‘I don’t think he’d understand why I did it.’

‘He’d probably understand best of all,’ Bakura said shrugging. He could see Ryou watching him from the corner of his eye, and he jumped up from the sofa. ‘I need something with sugar.’

Bakura opened the fridge scanning the shelf Ryou had dedicated to soft drinks as he perused his options. He finally pulled out a Pepsi and cracked it open.

‘So what are you going to do?’ Ryou asked as Bakura guzzled down half the can, nearly coughing on the bubbles.

Bakura shrugged. ‘Well if you aren’t getting me out of this one you can at least tell me how to do it.’

‘How to be in a relationship?

‘How to act in such a disgustingly cute way.’

‘It’s not disgusting,’ Ryou said. ‘We care about each other; we look after one another.’

‘Okay, well how do you do that?’ Bakura stressed. ‘How do you make that look good?’

‘Well, love is about caring for the other person, and putting their needs before yours sometimes. It isn’t selfish.’

Bakura paced the living room. ‘I’m not here for life lessons; I just need it to look good. Tell me what to do.’

‘Be kind.’

‘What. Does. That. Look. Like?’ Bakura asked, accentuating each word with a tap of his finger on the coffee table.

Ryou frowned. ‘I suppose you could do little things to show that you care: offer Malik your coat if he’s cold, surprise him with sweets, maybe call him by a pet name...’

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise I was dating a five year old,’ Bakura snapped, taking another gulp of his drink and leaving it on the table. ‘Should I also take him by the hand and tuck him in at night?’

‘You don’t hold Malik’s hand?’

‘Not in public. It’s patronising.’

‘But it’s nice,’ Ryou said, rubbing his thumb over his own hand. ‘It’s comforting to know that he’s there with you.’

‘Mutou often goes disappearing on you, does he?’ 

Ryou stood up taking Bakura’s half-finished soda can and the teacups to the kitchen sink.

‘What do you want from me, Bakura?’ he asked, pouring dish soap into the basin and turning on the tap. ‘I’m trying to help you.’

‘Just write out a list of things I should do to be better. Things that will get Ishizu off my back.’

‘Is that really what you want?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you won’t even consider telling Malik?’

‘Will you consider coming clean to Mutou?’

Ryou sighed and set the teacups into the hot water to soak.

‘Okay, get me a page then.’

 

* * *

 

It took Bakura three attempts to get the keys into the lock. He was certain that he had taken a small chunk out of the door’s wood as his second attempt to find the keyhole ricocheted spectacularly. 

He circled around, kicking over his neighbour’s pot plant to expel some of his excess energy, and watched with empty dissatisfaction as the pot remained intact and mess-free, the plant and soil probably packed in too tightly to fall loose. 

Finally, Bakura found the lock and, with some violent shaking and jostling, he managed to jam the key in and turn it to gain entry to the apartment. 

The abused door bounced on its hinges and swung backwards at great speed as if it were trying to escape him, but Bakura stretched out a leg, to catch its edge with his toe, slowing it enough to prevent a deafening slam. 

Satisfied, Bakura kicked his shoes off and stole over to the kitchen. The snack cupboard proved disappointing with nearly every packet having been previously opened at some point. Rummaging down to the bottom of the drawer with new purpose Bakura redoubled his search efforts and was rewarded with a prize find: a new bag of wasabi peas. 

With the snack lodged under his arm, Bakura returned to the living room and turned on the television while he took an edge of the  _ kotatsu _ table and dragged it back to his sofa. He switched it on to heat, opened the bag of peas and took a moment to relish their fresh scent before plucking a couple from the safety of the bag to cram into his mouth. The crunch was strong and soon he could feel the comforting burn that lingered at the back of his throat. 

Some  _ josei _ anime was playing at this hour, but Bakura didn’t care enough to change it. It seemed harmless enough, and from what he could tell it was about a young woman with two adoring suitors who pampered her, yet she was deeply distressed by this fact for some reason. Bakura wiped the grainy flavouring from his fingers onto his jeans, before he shoved his hand back into the pocket of his coat and felt around through old receipts, fliers and candy wrappers until he found Ryou’s list. 

Some attempt at neat handwriting had been made at the start but by the end it had devolved into chicken scratches and abstract sketches of the kanji than anything else. Affectionate kisses, pour Malik’s tea before your own, hold hands, cuddle, breakfast in bed… the list just went on. Bakura was just happy to have something tangible to work with. Ryou had taken so long to decide on anything that it would have been easier getting blood from a stone, and if Bakura had heard him say ‘just be nice’ one more time his cheerful apartment would have become a grizzly crime scene.

‘Morning or night?’ 

The voice was the first announcement of Malik’s arrival and Bakura quickly crumpled the page back into his pocket and tried to appear entirely engrossed in the anime. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Well, if it’s the former then you bailed on the end of my birthday.’

‘I’m here now, aren’t I?’

‘At 3 am? You missed it.’

‘You haven’t gone to sleep yet, it’s still your birthday.’

‘No, it’s Christmas Eve.’

‘Well that’s a rubbish holiday and it doesn’t count; it’s all for the hotels and restaurants anyway.’

‘You’ve mentioned.’

‘And as they aren’t currently full of naïve, adoring couples, that particular holiday hasn’t started yet.’

Malik settled down beside Bakura, peeling up the edge of the blanket and slipping underneath.

‘Where did you go?’

‘Out.’

‘Oh, out.’

‘It’s a good place, we should try it sometime. It is a little overhyped though.’

‘Bakura….’

‘Ryou’s. I went to visit Ryou.’

Bakura glanced over to Malik, the glaring light of the television flickering over his features. A small nod; he was satisfied with the simple truth, and Bakura relaxed, glad that his exhausted mind didn’t have to conjure some alibi.

Malik looked a little smaller, his eyelids lined with a crust of sleep rather than kohl, hair fluffed and shirt far too long for him.   
  
‘Were you sleeping?’

‘Just resting.’

‘You were waiting for me?’

‘No, that just happened.’

He shifted under the blanket to stretch his limbs out. 

There was a comfort to his presence, Bakura noted, but he didn’t need to hold his hand for that, especially not out of some social obligation. He just did what he wanted, what he felt like doing. Their knees were pressed against each other, and there was the brush of Malik’s shoulder against his, but he didn’t feel the need to push further. His spot was comfy and he was sure Malik was comfortable too. 

Bakura sighed, Ishizu was already in his head, breeding self-doubt.

‘What?’

Bakura exhaled again, trying to make the sound appear a little more natural, a symptom of drowsiness rather than unsettled thoughts.

‘It’s just a very contrived plot isn’t it?’ he asked, nodding to the television. ‘That wouldn’t happen in real life would it? They’d have all talked it out, or duelled about it, or whatever it is everyone is doing these days.’

Malik readjusted his position again, curling himself into Bakura a little more as he fixed him with a sober look. ‘Are you suggesting that anime might not accurately depict the mundane reality of everyday life?’

‘Do you think anyone has ever noticed that before?’

Malik rested his head on Bakura’s shoulder, but all Bakura could focus on was how he was frozen like a statue; cool to the touch, his hands awkwardly weighing down on his knees, under the blanket. Did he always sit like that? Was it normal? Normal for them at least? He rolled his shoulder, rocking Malik’s head in the process, and pausing. Malik shifted a little, in anticipation of repositioning. Oh gods, he had to move and commit to that now didn’t he?

Stiffly, Bakura worked his arm out from under the blanket and draped it around Malik’s shoulders, the limb hanging out at an angle like some kind of grotesque scarf, all but swinging like a noose. 

‘Something’s off.’

‘Probably those apples we never threw out.’

‘Bakura, I mean it.’

‘So do I. They’ve been in the fridge for weeks.’

‘You’re off.’

‘I’d be a lot harder to fit in the trash.’

Bakura listened for a stifled laugh but heard only a heavy sigh. The television flicked off and Malik set the remote on the  _ kotatsu _ .

‘What did Ishizu say to you?’

Bakura leant back against the sofa. His arm dropped from Malik as they faced one another.

‘Why do you think she said something?’

‘She excused herself and dashed after you. I assume something was said.’

‘You didn’t think to stop her?’

Malik shrugged. ‘I thought you might need to fight a little to get it out of your systems.’

‘Thanks.’

‘So what did she say?’

Bakura pushed the hair out of his eyes and rubbed his temple.

‘The usual.’

‘The usual?’

‘What are you doing with your life, something about several chances, life is a gift, all the usual inspiration porn.’

‘And that’s all?’

Bakura nodded. It wasn’t a lie if you didn’t speak.  

‘Was it worth missing the end of today over?’

‘I’d just had enough Ishizu for one day.’

Malik sighed, leaning back against the arm of the sofa.

‘It really put you out that much?’ Bakura asked, with a cocky smile. ‘Should I promise never to leave your side again?’

‘That sounds more like a threat.’

Malik gave a small smile, but that was all he needed. 

‘I could make it up to you,’ Bakura leant in closer, placing a soft kiss over the delicate skin of Malik’s throat.

‘Bakura, I’m already in my bed clothes.’

‘How appropriate, that was where I was planning on taking this.’

‘I’m a mess.’

‘No, you’re right. I’ll just have to put a bag over your head then.’

He meant to catch Malik’s ear with his teeth but he was pushed backwards onto the sofa, his shoulders pinned in place with Malik’s hands, their legs now a tangled mess, caught up in the  _ kotatsu _ blanket. Malik was positively glowing; his eyes were dancing, his hair, though frizzy, falling about his face in golden tails.

‘You’re terrible at changing the subject.’

Bakura slipped a hand free to trail two fingers softly from Malik’s chest down to his stomach. ‘But I’m excellent at temptation.’

Malik caught the stray fingers before they could drop lower down. 

‘You’re not as good as you think.’

Undeterred, Bakura nudged his knee up to brush against Malik’s inner thigh.

‘Okay then, let’s talk about… what was it again?’

He trailed kisses down Malik’s neck, ending with a series of playful nips at his shoulder, teasing the skin with his teeth and watching it blush purple.

‘I can’t think when…’

‘Then maybe now isn’t he right time for conversation.’

‘I know I’m pissed at you.’

‘Who isn’t?’ Bakura sat up with a grin, ready for a second assault, but Malik wasn’t looking at him, his attention focused to the ceiling instead. 

‘I… you needed to be here.’

Bakura swallowed and nodded. 

‘Next time I will,’ he promised. ‘But I do have a plan to make it up to you.’

He pecked a kiss on Malik’s lips, a gentle request, that was met with a vigorous answer.

Malik’s hands found him, fingers twisting through his hair and nails digging deep into his scalp. He had no idea if he’d managed to draw blood, or if Malik was either pulling him up or pushing Bakura down, but their lips met and instinct took over. 

There was no more room for words with such an invitation, and so many more pleasurable ways that Bakura could put his mouth to use instead of rambling excuses. When they finally fell back on the sofa, all their breath was spent, and the grievances forgotten.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has left reviews and kudos, you guys rock and really make my day. : D
> 
> A massive thanks is also owed to the talented Lily-Liegh who has been helping me out with editing and has been providing tonnes of support! <3


	4. 27th December

It had taken a little persuasion to allay Rishid’s concerns over taking the bike out in the snow, but Malik had been insistent that it was perfectly safe. It made more sense for him and Bakura to go on ahead rather than making a whole trip back in the car to pick up one extra person. Rishid hadn’t seemed completely convinced by this argument, but he hadn’t passed his concerns on to Ishizu, and for that Malik was grateful.

Bakura had offered some gruff scolds against the idea as well, although it appeared to be the cold, and not the danger of the roads, that concerned him. Not concerned enough to wear any of the spare winter leathers that Malik had offered him, of course, but just enough to complain about it. It was curious how that always worked out.

They sped along the mountain road that cut through the forest, an army of trees surrounding them on either side and towering in and over them. Although intimidating, Malik was grateful for their presence; it helped reduce the biting windchill and offered some protection, even if it only increased their isolation. Bakura had long since fallen silent, his backseat barbs normally a highlight, or intolerable grievance depending on Malik’s mood, during their trips out on these trails during the summer, but no commentary was to be heard. Malik might have feared that he had frozen to death behind him in his thin wool coat, trainers and knitted gloves, but he clung to Malik’s back like a monkey, probably seeking to share his body heat. With such intimate close proximity, Malik could feel ever shudder and shiver Bakura made. 

They were all alone, the last two people in the world. The sounds of the busy cities had long since died away so that only the purr of the motorbike’s engine could be heard. The only signs of life left were the two trails of dirty, frozen slush that carved out a path along the road, marking out a safe route to keep them from the verge. Malik took the bike between the frozen tyre tracks to make a new trail through the fresh snow, careful to avoid the two treacherous lines of ice. Malik amused himself by wondering what the next person to tackle these roads might think of the strange tricycle print this arrangement left behind.

The final turn came upon them all at once, nestled deep between the trees and requiring a sharp turning manoeuvre, even in the better weather. Malik threw their body weight to the side, turning the bike in and tapping the break of the back wheel. He felt Bakura tense up at the sudden change, and couldn’t blame him. He was even surprised that this turn was working as they banked into the corner. 

And then it wasn’t. 

The tires lost their traction and the bike slipped on, gliding for a few blissful seconds of practical uncertainty, until it couped over throwing Malik and Bakura tumbling across the side road. 

Malik immediately clambered around, his vision all white from the snow caked onto his goggles. With clumsy fingers he pushed them off his face as he scanned around him to spot Bakura shakily peeling himself out of the snow and searching for Malik. Their eyes met and breaths came easier once more. Malik dropped back into the small crater his body had made in the snow ditch, and took a moment to assess the situation.

Even through his leathers he could feel the all-encompassing freeze of the snow worming its way through the protection to pervade his skin with the chill. 

‘Wh-what the f-fuck was that?’ Bakura stammered out as he got up, hurriedly brushing off the particles of snow still clinging to his thin coat.

‘I was going too fast for the bend in this weather,’ Malik said, sitting up and rubbing his hip where he had landed. ‘I tried to turn and break at the same time: that was the mistake.’

‘That w-was f-fucking stu-pid,’ Bakura noted, his arms gripped tight around his middle as he walked back to the bike, tapping it gently with his toe as if he were able to gain some diagnostic insight from the action. He glanced back at Malik as he stood up and shook off the snow that clung to him. ‘You okay?’

Malik nodded. ‘You?’

‘Wet,’ Bakura blurted out waiting at the side of the motorcycle for Malik to pick it up for him. ‘And c-cold.’

‘The snow broke our fall,’ Malik noted. ‘We’re lucky it gave us a soft landing.’

‘We won’t be l-lucky when it g-ives us hy-hypo-thermia.’

Malik pulled the bike upright and brushed the snow off where he could as he ran his hands over the mechanisms to check for dents.

‘Wh-what are you doing n-ow?’

‘Checking for any damage.’

‘The ca-cabin is at the end of the r-road.’

‘And I’m making sure we get there in one piece.’

Bakura hopped onto the back on the bike, his shoulders rounded in on themselves as he glared up at Malik. 

‘Looks good to me, l-let’s go.’

Malik sighed, and rode astride the bike in front of him. He flicked down his own goggles and gently ran the bike up to the cabin, making sure to use less pressure on the throttle this time. 

The little cabin could have been easily missed amongst the snowy banks and needles of the conifer trees. Its small sloped roof was blanketed with thick layers of snow that looked so heavy that it might just collapse through the delicate little veranda that shielded the porch. 

Malik ran the bike up to the side of the little house before he stopped it, kicking out the stand and dismounting. Bakura clung to him as he attempted to separate himself, reluctant to lose his heat source, but begrudgingly shuffling off the bike himself. Bakura’s coat’s collar was pulled up around his face as much as it would allow, and he headed straight for the front door, ripping off his helmet as he did so.

Malik took a chance to stretch out his frozen muscles as he followed behind, curling and uncurling his numb fingers, and taking some careful steps with his legs, bending his knees and twisting his ankles round to loosen them up. He could feel the oncoming arrival of some bruising on his left, no doubt from the fall, but he didn’t think that it should get too severe. 

Malik removed his own helmet and goggles, shaking his hair free after so long flattened in the helmet, and pushed his scarf down from over his nose and mouth. He expected to be able to smell the pine scent of the conifers, or at least that clean, cold scent of the crisp winter air, but the weather had hit him hard. He could feel the cool at work over his cheeks and nose, making it run, and baffling his senses so that all he could smell was the distinctive scent of burnt toast; the downfall of facing the elements.

‘Keys.’ Bakura turned back to him, his hand outstretched and expectant while Malik tried to push through a cloud of brain fog to discover his intention.

‘Keys.’ Bakura repeated. ‘For… for the c-cabin.’

Keys for the cabin. They needed that to get in. ‘Oh.’

Bakura’s look shifted from impatience to horror in the space of a blink.

‘You don’t have the keys?’

‘Yugi booked the cabin, so he has the welcome pack which will probably contain—’

‘No, to hell with th-this.’

Wrapping his arms tighter around himself, Bakura tucked his hands back into his sleeves and stomped his way up the steps and onto the porch. 

‘They’re just behind us. You can’t wait a couple of extra minutes?’ Malik asked, watching with some amusement as Bakura got to work checking the handle, examining the lock and then feeling above the door ledge and porch lamp for a spare key. 

‘They  _ were _ a couple of min-minutes behind us, but we left them be-hind long ago.’

He mustn’t have found any promising prospects as Bakura went back down the porch steps to do his rounds of the building instead. Malik followed behind, wrapping his own arms around himself to keep out the cold that he could feel gaining on him.

Bakura had now taken to inspecting the windows. Probably checking to see if one had been left ajar, Malik reckoned as he watched Bakura run a light hand around the edge of each, and give the glass a tap before moving on to examine the next. 

‘Breaking in are you?’ Malik asked, following behind as Bakura’s tour took him around the back of the cabin. 

‘Not with these locks and frames I’m not.’

Bakura completed his lap and, having seemed to have found no other options, began a fresh hunt as he double checked the porch for any other hiding spots for keys. He focused his attention on a little collection of haphazardly arranged pebbles with new vigour, lifting each one up in turn and checking underneath. Malik examined their speckled appearances with curiosity, although something was certainly off about one of them. He picked it up and found it to be lighter than expected. It was hollow, and made of plastic. The mystery unfolding, Malik turned it over and found a little plastic door underneath, which, after a little working, slid aside to reveal the key.

‘They should have a spare key, everyone does,’ Bakura muttered, abandoning the stones and making a fresh assault on the porch chair, opening up the cushions to peer inside. ‘I bet they told Mutou where it is, not that he would think to tell us, of course because who would—’

_ Click.  _

Malik turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, checking back over his shoulder to see Bakura, his arm still wedged into the chair’s cushion cover, mouth slightly open. 

‘Door’s open,’ Malik informed him, shaking the snow from the bottom of his boots before stepping inside. 

Bakura scrambled in after him. He threw the door closed behind them, as Malik removed his boots and set them neatly on the shoe rack.

‘Where did the key come from?’ Bakura asked as he worked his soaked trainers off. 

‘One of the rocks was hollow,’ Malik said. He took off his own coat to hang up and set about exploring their vacation retreat.

‘I checked the rocks,’ Bakura called after him.

The living quarters were open plan, the cosy seating area blending into the kitchen and dining spaces, while a door offered a way into the bedrooms. 

‘If you’re so good at finding things you can hunt down the heat source,’ Bakura said as he came into the living room, still shivering. With a brief glance about the space he dropped down onto one of the cushions in the centre of the room around a little table.

‘You’ve already found it,’ Malik noted, settling down beside him. ‘That sunken bit in the middle of the table is for a fire, and there’s a little vent set above it for the smoke.’ 

‘I know what an  _ irori _ is. But it’s not warm now.’

‘They tend to heat up once you light them,’ Malik snipped back. A little box of kindling sticks, small logs and a candle lighter had been tucked behind the fireplace and Malik nudged it towards Bakura with his toe. ‘There you go.’  

Malik smiled to himself as he walked away to inspect the kitchenette and its appliances. It was simple, clean and modern with a little breakfast bar separating it from the living area. It didn’t take long to explore, and soon Malik had found the little water heater he had been looking for. The room had been oddly silent, no complaints or a ‘Yes, your highness’ from Bakura’s direction. Malik picked up the water heater and took it to the sink to fill up. 

Some small rattles sounded from behind him, and Malik shut off the tap and looked back over his shoulder to see Bakura emptying the box of kindling onto the floor and examining it carefully as if he just opened up the world’s most complicated jigsaw. 

Malik adjusted the temperature of the heater and switched it on, before he returned to Bakura. If he was staging some kind of rebellious tantrum then it was a particularly ineffective one, although as Malik got closer he could see that Bakura was taking handfuls of the smaller sticks and dropping them into the middle of the fireplace.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Lighting the fire.’

Cursing as the sticks all fell into flat piles Bakura took handfuls of the sticks and attempted to stand them up in a triangle shape as if he were placing the final two cards on top of a playing card pyramid. 

‘Do you know what you’re doing?’

‘No.’

‘Then shouldn’t we wait for Rishid?’

‘If we light it now, it might be warm by the time they get in.’

The little pile of sticks all collapsed again, rolling away and refusing to sit in the tepee shape Bakura was attempting to build. 

‘I think that’s unlikely,’ Malik noted.

Malik could feel the cold sinking into his skin, chilling him right to his centre, as he watched Bakura finally create some structure that looked reasonable and prod at it with the candle lighter to little success. The small flame only seemed to blacken the chunks of wood slightly and cause them to smoke a little, but it wouldn’t catch. Reluctant to move from their spot they took what comfort they could from the warmth reflected back by the cushions and Bakura allowed Malik to curl into him to share some of his body heat. 

It helped somewhat and Bakura finally abandoned his attempts to start the fire, instead leaning back into Malik for the warmth. 

‘If we weren’t sharing this cabin with your siblings, I’d be suggesting a different activity to keep warm,’ Bakura joked, giving Malik a gentle little nudge with his elbow, but Malik could only shake his head.

‘That would involve taking clothes off first,’ he reminded him. ‘It’s too cold for that.’

The front door clicked and Bakura sat up a little straighter forcing Malik to grab onto his shoulder as he lost his balance and had to save himself from falling backwards. Ryou and Yugi appeared first, giggling with excitement, and all but bouncing off the walls as they examined the  _ irori, _ completely enamoured with the little fireplace after so much urban apartment living. 

‘You were right, it is wonderful, Yugi-kun,’ Ryou said in awe walking right past Malik and Bakura to spy out the window. ‘The perfect choice.’

‘It’s such a beautiful spot,’ Yugi agreed. Bakura threw up his arms in mock exacerbation as he also walked on past without acknowledging their presence, and joined Ryou at the window. ‘I thought it would be nice to get back to nature for a week.’

They turned to face each other, grinning. A momentary blush betrayed Ryou’s intentions a second before he acted, and Yugi was already leaning forward when Ryou brushed a hand along his jawline to gently tilt his face up for a kiss. 

Malik dipped his head to give them some privacy when he noticed that Bakura was throwing more sticks on the disjointed little pile he’d made and was poking it with the candle lighter again. 

‘Rishid will do that,’ Malik reminded Bakura, gently pushing his hand back down again. ‘It’s done.’ 

The door opened a second time and Malik immediately scrambled up at the sound, the cold forgotten, as he went to greet his family. 

Ishizu’s face immediately lit up as she spotted her brother, and she dropped her bag to give him a quick hug. 

‘You left at the same time as us; how did you get here so early?’ she asked as they parted.

Malik gave a sheepish smile. ‘I know the roads.’

‘We saw where you fell off the bike.’ Rishid pushed through the door, loaded down with bags. He gave Malik a knowing look. ‘You took the corner too fast.’

‘And that had nothing to do with me,’ Bakura’s voice chimed in from behind. Malik glanced over his shoulder, to check if Bakura had actually come out into the hallway to greet his family when a hand clapped itself onto his waist. Malik felt himself being yanked into Bakura’s side like a fish on the end of a zip line, as Bakura brought him into one of the most awkward one armed hugs he thought he had ever managed to experience. ‘Ishizu, Rishid, we’re glad you could make it.’ 

Malik’s arms hung awkwardly in front of himself as he scrutinised Bakura’s expression. He was only able to see him in profile from where he was trapped, but he couldn’t make out anything unpleasant in his expression or tone. In fact he looked as if he may be a moment away from attempting a bow in greeting. Oh gods, what was he planning? 

‘I hope you two weren’t injured from the fall,’ Ishizu said, hanging up her coat.

‘We weren’t going that fast,’ Malik assured her. ‘It was just a tumble.’

Ishizu gave a nod as she picked up her bag, ‘Well I’m glad to see that you’re safe.’ 

‘We’ve just been holding down the fort,’ Bakura said, patting Malik’s hip again. ‘Tried to get a little fire started to warm the place, create a bit of atmosphere, but I’m a little out of practice.’ 

‘That was a lovely thought though,’ Ishizu said. ‘Is there an open fireplace in here?’ Ishizu walked on past them to get to the living room to see for herself. 

Rishid moved on to follow her, but he hesitated as he passed by Malik’s side. ‘Are you  _ actually _ okay?’ he asked, hovering a moment. ‘It looked like a painful fall.’

Malik smiled and gave a nod. ‘No harm done; I’m just a little stiff.’

Internally he cringed, recognising that he’d left himself open to a lewd chime in from Bakura as Rishid continued on to follow Ishizu, but none came. Malik slipped out of Bakura’s grip, watching him expectantly, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. 

‘Bags?’ Bakura called back to Rishid, his thumb pointing out the door. 

‘I’ll get them after I drop off these,’ Rishid promised. 

‘No need, I’ll grab them.’ Bakura trotted off out the door and Malik just stared out after him, trying to process what he’d just seen. Sure enough, Bakura reappeared less than a minute later with a bulky duffle bag. He deposited it in an undignified heap in the hallway, and set out again back to the car. 

Malik rushed to the doorway, stopping short of the snow dampened porch and instead clinging to the door frame to protect as much of himself from the chilled wind as possible.

‘Where are you going?’ Malik called out to Bakura’s retreating back.

‘To get the bags.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they can’t stay in the car all week.’

Bakura disappeared from view behind the car and Malik quickly sprung into action to grab his shoes and pull them on. 

_ Bang _ . Another bag was dropped down next to the previous one, and Bakura headed back out, as Malik followed this time.

‘What did you pack?’ Malik asked as he caught up to Bakura.

‘You saw me pack.’

‘Yes, but what else did you pack? Why do you have to get to the bags before Rishid does?’

‘I’m just being helpful,’ Bakura said with a shrug.

Bakura considered the pile in front of him and set his sights on the boxes of groceries, nearly crawling into the trunk itself to pull them out. 

‘Why?’

‘For the fuzzy warm feeling it gives me.’ Bakura shuffled himself out backwards dragging the boxes back to the ledge, until both of his feet were firmly planted back in the snow. He spun the boxes around looking for the best grips, unable to hide the tremors of his arms against the cold.

‘I’ll take those,’ Malik offered, but his hand was pushed away.

‘No, I have it. You’ll only struggle with them.’

‘I can handle some boxes,’ Malik said, reaching for the top one again, but he found himself to be gently pushed away again. ‘Or I can at least take—’

His words were cut off as Bakura pushed a large bag of bedding into his arms and turned back to the boxes, heaving them up onto his chest with a grunt and giving Malik a self-satisfied smile.

‘Done.’

‘Give me a box.’

‘Deliver that one first.’

‘Then give me a bag as well,’ Malik demanded.

‘You have a bag,’ Bakura replied, nudging away Malik’s attacks with ease.

‘I mean a proper bag.’

Bakura shrugged. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘You can come back for the next box,’ Bakura said with authority and a sense of infinite calm. He nodded ahead, back towards the cabin. ‘Off you go.’

‘That means I’m making more trips.’

‘More  _ safe _ trips.’ Bakura bounced the boxes up with his knee to freshen his grip on the load but stood firmly between Malik and the trunk. He reached his foot forward to gently tap Malik’s leg to prompt him on. ‘Let’s go.’

Malik lingered, weighing up the merits of circling around the car to grab another bag in a stealth attack, but he could see Bakura’s arms lagging at the weight, and he had to freshen his grip again to keep his hold.

‘Fine.’ Malik marched off with the bag setting a good pace and hopping up the porch steps in record time to fling his load down the hall. 

He passed Bakura on his way back who was struggling to see around his burden to safely find the porch steps with his foot. Malik power-walked past him and back to the car. He had to reach far inside to pull the bags forward from the very back. There was a particularly weighty backpack that Malik suspected held a laptop or two, as well as their towels and various appliances, but it was scooped out of his hands as soon as he had pulled it forward.

‘I’ll take that.’ Bakura was at his side, out of breath, but triumphant, and he slung the backpack over his shoulder while he gathered up the rest of the bags. 

‘Did you race me back?’ Malik asked.

Bakura just continued to sort through the last of the belongings, before settling on a box and passing it to Malik. 

‘There, now you get a box.’

Malik took it, his arms outstretched as he received it and gently bounced it to ascertain its weight.

‘There’s nothing to it.’

‘Then it won’t take you long.’ Bakura straightened up out of the trunk again, a carrier bag in each hand, and one pressed under his arm for good measure. ‘Go on, I’ll come behind.’ 

Malik narrowed his eyes as he tucked the box under one arm and rested it on his hip. ‘I have a free hand.’

‘Then you can get the door.’

‘The door’s already open.’

‘No it’s not; I closed it over to keep the heat in.’

Malik looked back to see the front door had been closed, and checked back to Bakura who looked down at himself and his many bags.

‘Well,  _ I  _ can’t get the door.’

Malik’s eyes narrowed as he was prompted on by Bakura who followed sluggishly, his knuckles white from supporting the weight of the two bags. ‘What are you planning?’

‘I’m just getting the supplies in.’

‘But why are you doing it?’

‘I told you, I’m being helpful.’

Malik opened the door, clearing space aside for them to set down the bags and helped Bakura to wiggle free of the backpack.

‘But  _ you _ don’t do this.’

Bakura grabbed one of the carrier bags and pressed it into Malik’s hands. ‘You can start by putting that away,’ he delegated, backing out of the hallway. ‘I’ll grab the rest.’

Malik dropped the bag and strode out after him but Bakura’s arms were already full of the luggage when he met him. Only one lone little bag was left sitting in the trunk while Bakura jostled the load around to get a better grip.

‘I suppose that’s my bag to carry, is it?’ Malik asked snippily.

‘No, I’ve got it.’ Bakura tilted himself down to the car, hooking up one of the handles precariously with a curled finger, and stepping back away from the trunk. ‘I need you to lock up the car.’

Malik turned and threw the trunk door down, ready to start a fresh case for taking a bag, but Bakura was already halfway to the house. The car had been picked clean; there was nothing else to carry, and everything that had been brought in appeared above board.

Malik considered his options as he followed Bakura back to the house, watching as he dropped down the weighted bags and stretched his hands, massaging over the blunt dents the handles had pressed into his flesh. 

‘You left the door open that time,’ Malik noted as he closed it over again. 

‘There’s no point closing it for that trip.’

Malik rummaged through the small mountain of luggage to get to their bags. ‘What about keeping the heat in?’

‘What heat?’ Bakura asked, handing Malik another bag, light and loosely packed too he couldn’t help but notice. ‘It’s probably warmer out there than it is in here.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many thanks are due once again to the beautiful Lily-Liegh, who helped with betaing and editing. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and, as always, all kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. ^^


	5. 28th/29th December

The morning happened to Bakura all at once. The blissful oblivion of sleep shattered and fell away as the shrill staccato beeps of Bakura’s morning phone alarm drilled through his morning fogginess and banished him from returning. He fumbled for the space on his bedside table, but found only the wooden flooring. This wasn’t his bed. Opening an eye hesitantly, the morning world swam into view, and Bakura was able to lock his sight on the phone and swipe the alarm off.

This wasn’t his bed. He flopped back onto the mattress, ready to pull the blankets over his head to lock out the surprisingly persistent glow of the morning’s sunbeams so that he could doze again. 

This wasn’t his bed. His ears were pricked for the sounds of cars and bikes, the chatter of the city waking up, but the morning was silent. The only thing he could make out was a lone crow hacking out a call over the barren land. 

They’d arrived at the cabin yesterday. Bakura closed his eyes. Why had he set an alarm then?  _ Shit _ . Bakura opened his eyes again and rubbed away the mess of sleep that clung to his eyelashes. His body was infuriatingly sluggish to respond all while his mind was racing and processing the scene. 

Bakura frowned as he looked to his side, the bed beside him was empty but some attempt at neatening the blanket and pillow on that side had been made. Malik was up already?  _ Shit Shit Shit _ . 

It took a concentrated effort to slip from the sleep-warmed covers to experience the shocking chill of the room. The morning beams were fragile, offering only a tentative early light, and a quick check of his phone screen confirmed that it was only after seven.

Bakura pulled some clothes on, grabbing the first items that came to hand from his duffle bag and journeyed to the living room.

The sound of gentle chittering drifted down to him as he entered the living room. The Ishtars were gathered in the kitchen, Rishid stirred a large rice pot on the stove while Malik showed off a miso soup packet to Ishizu.

Malik’s voice was musical in his native tongue sparking a pang in Bakura’s chest. He pushed it to the side and strode into the room to investigate.

‘Good morning, Bakura,’ Ishizu chirped cheerily to him in Japanese, looking up from the packet whilst Malik’s head snapped up so sharply he risked whiplash.

‘Why are  _ you _ up?’ he asked, setting down the soup packet. ‘This is practically the middle of the night for you.’

On reflex Bakura raised his hand, ready to provide a fitting gesture in response, but quickly changed track to disguise it as an attempt to scratch the back of his neck instead. 

‘Spooky, isn’t it?’Bakura raised his eyebrows with a smile, as leant over the counter watching as Malik made up the miso soup in front of Ishizu. ‘You’re making breakfast?’

‘Yes,’ Malik said, whisking the soup with a fork.

‘Is it too early for you?’ Rishid asked. ‘We could set some aside for you to have later.’

‘It’s okay, I can eat.’

‘We’re definitely ready for it,’ Ishizu added. ‘We were awake at six.’

‘Gods. Why would you do that?’ 

Bakura looked between them, bewildered by the notion, but mildly aware that his outburst was perhaps blunter than intended

‘We wanted to see the sunrise,’ Ishizu explained. ‘The light was so beautiful over the valley; it’s only a short walk away.’

‘Are you going to do that every morning?’

‘Maybe another morning or two,’ Malik said musing on the question as Rishid drained the rice. ‘Why?’

Bakura set his jaw a little, swallowing his pride in front of Ishizu. ‘I just thought one morning I could give you breakfast… in bed.’

Malik raised an eyebrow, an almost scolding look before he returned his attention to the pot. ‘I’m sure we could arrange that. We’re not planning any hikes tomorrow morning.’

Bakura gave a nod and then realised that Malik wouldn’t be able to see it. ‘Good.’ 

With that arranged, Bakura grabbed the empty box of miso soup, pretending to read the back, if only so that he didn’t have to see Ishizu’s proud little reaction. 

Holding the hot bowl of miso soup in his hands, Bakura could feel the morning chill within him thaw, although the hot ceramic did prickle his fingers with its heat as he half listened to Rishid’s description of a bird he’d seen and was hoping to identify.

The soup had been long since drunk and the last grains of rice had gone cold by the time that Yugi and Ryou emerged, joyful and refreshed. They were still wearing their pyjama bottoms and had swapped hoodies with each other. Bakura observed their needless contact, all handholding and tender brushes as they grabbed their milky, sweet coffees and exchanged sleepy kisses. The exact kind of inoffensive domestic bliss that companies used in their marketing to sell living room furniture and breakfast foods.

‘Do you want to show me this valley view?’ Bakura asked, as Ryou divided up a melonpan bread between himself and Yugi. 

‘Now?’

Bakura shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘It involves going outside,’ Malik warned. ‘And exercise.’

‘I have been known to do both those things.’

‘Are you sure?’

Any other time, Bakura would have wiped that cocky smile off Malik’s lips with a barb of his own, but proper decorum was required this week.

‘Malik, that sounds like a lovely idea, doesn’t it?’ Ishizu added. ‘And you could show Bakrua the tree that had all the icicles.’ 

‘That sounds like something worth seeing,’ Bakura said, setting his chopsticks down and trying to muster something akin to excitement on his face for Malik. ‘Do you want to see it?’

Malik looked between Bakura and Ishizu, his mouth open slightly and his eyes calculating. 

‘Let’s do that, then,’ Malik said, standing up just as Ryou and Yugi reached the table with their breakfast things. 

‘We’re going for a morning walk,’ Bakura explained to answer Ryou’s puzzled expression, although he was certain it only puzzled him further.

‘Have fun,’ Yugi said with a smile. ‘Are you going to be back later? We have some board games set aside for the afternoon.’

Malik grabbed their coats passing Bakura his before throwing his own on.

Bakura opened the door, pulling it wide and hopping to the side to let Malik through, just in time for Malik to walk straight into the back of him. 

‘Sorry,’ Bakura offered.

Malik rubbed at his shoulder. ‘It’s fine. Did you see something?’

‘What?’

‘Well, why did you stop?’

‘To hold the door for you.’

‘Okay.’

Bakura tapped his foot while Malik took an eternity to decide if he was going to pass through. He did eventually and Bakura slipped out, closing the door behind them.

‘Why did you do that?’ Malik asked, pulling on his gloves.

‘I just held a door open, Malik,’ Bakura said, waiting until Malik had started walking before following on behind. He let Malik take the lead, zipping up his jacket and shoving his hands into pockets as Malik set course for a snowy bank through the trees. 

‘And you just want to go out on a nature walk do you?’ Malik asked, walking just to the side of the trudged morning footpath to mark his own fresh tracks in the virgin snow. 

‘You like doing outdoor things; so let’s do outdoor things.’

Bakura hopped from footprint to footprint, preferring the comfort of the condensed stepping stones left by the Ishtars that morning. Unfortunately, their gait was slightly off from his, and he found that to hit the same steps he had to adopt a lopsided stumble. 

‘So we’re doing what I want to do this weekend,’ Malik mused. He paused at his spot on the hill, a wry smile on his lips and a playful glint to his eye. ‘I could get used to that.’

‘Good.’

Bakura continued pushing on up the hill, his legs complaining at the abuse so early in the morning as he drew level with Malik, although he did notice that Malik was regarding him with an uneasy look.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

Malik nodded, and then grew pensive. ‘It’s just odd.’

Malik turned tail and continued their ascent up the hill while Bakura walked at his side. 

Odd? That was certainly troubling, if enlightening, feedback. Bakura continued to follow along behind Malik, the peace of the silence lost on him as his mind churned with noisy thoughts. He wasn’t quite sure what reaction he had been hoping for, or had really expected, but he hadn’t allowed for this response. 

Bakura sighed, as stumbled through the footprints. He would just have to redouble his efforts, push further tomorrow and do even better. He still had a lot of improving to do.

 

* * *

The alarm rang out at six and Bakura slammed the phone on his pillow to shut the sound off after the first beep. The world was dark, but it was soft and warm. Although every fibre of his being instructed him to sink further into this comfort, he instead forced an eye open, only to see more darkness. The sun hadn’t begun to rise yet; however, neither had Malik. 

Bakura shifted in the covers, his arms empty where Malik had wiggled free of his grip and found his own spot in the bed. As Bakura’s eyes adjusted to the gloom he could make out Malik’s silhouette, his back to Bakura and sleeping soundly, his breathing slow and steady. 

Forcing himself to get out of the bed, Bakura slipped from the covers out onto the floor before righting himself and stealing out of the room. 

He had only the vaguest idea of what a breakfast in bed should look like and it mostly adhered to the kind of sickly sweet foods that Ryou often ate. He put a pan on, cracked two eggs into it, and punctured the yolks with his chopsticks while he mixed them up together. At a bit of a loss, he decided to slice up some cherry tomatoes to go with the dish and picked out some of the bread that they had brought along to put on the side of the plate. With a rice ball and juice, Bakura deemed the breakfast to look complete and brought it back into the bedroom with him.

Malik didn’t even stir when Bakura returned to the room. He imagined that today was probably his morning for a lie in. Bakura sat down on the mattress and carefully reached across his sleeping partner. As quietly as he could, Bakura set the plate down on the floor beside Malik’s half of the mattress and kissed his temple as he imagined one was supposed to do. Malik shifted a little, turning to face Bakura, an eye opening half sleepily as he spotted him and closing again. ‘Morning.’ The word was mumbled and soon Malik’s breathing evened out again to a steady rhythm, and it was no time before Bakura’s own breaths fell into a similar pattern.

‘Bakura?’ 

Bakura blinked a couple of times; the morning light was peering in, and when he opened his eyes he could see Malik sitting up. Bakura rubbed at his eyes, stretched out his back and mumbled some incoherent words in response. 

‘There’s food here,’ Malik noted.

Bakura yawned. ‘You were sleeping.’

‘Is this…’

There was silence and Bakura turned over onto his side, nestling into the pillow and lazily opening an eye to watch Malik pick at his breakfast.

‘So yesterday when you said, breakfast in bed,’ Malik picked up the  _ tamagoyaki _ , turning it over in his fingers to investigate it, ‘you literally meant… breakfast in bed.’

‘That’s typically how the Japanese language works,’ Bakura mumbled, ‘Why? What were you expecting?’

‘Breakfast… in bed,’ Malik gave a waggle of his eyebrows and a shoulder shimmy, and Bakura was sure he was getting at something but through the fogginess of the morning he couldn’t quite grasp it. 

‘Malik, you’re just repeating the same words again.’

‘You said it suggestively.’

‘Suggestively?’

‘Like an innuendo.’

‘Oh.’ With the mystery solved, Bakura closed his eyes again. ‘That would be a really stupid innuendo.’

‘Your innuendos are hardly worthy of Shakespeare.’ 

‘And your siblings were in the room.’

‘You take that as a challenge.’

The mattress rippled from Malik’s shifting weight and Bakura opened his eyes again to see his partner swing his legs over onto the floor and get up, taking the plate with him.

‘Aren’t you going to eat that?’

‘Of course I am,’ Malik said, setting the plate down on the dressing table and grabbing some clothes. ‘I just don’t want to get crumbs in the bed. You can sleep on.’

Malik slipped into his jeans and pulled on a shirt, taking the plate and slipping out of the room. He hesitated at the doorway a moment, before turning back.

‘Thank you, Bakura.’ And then he was gone. 

Bakura sat up, feeling the chill of the room ghost down his back as he rubbed at his face with his palms. Right, he was up. With sluggish regret, Bakura slipped out from the covers and hunted down something clean to wear.

The entire clan was at the breakfast table when Bakura made his way to the dining area. He tried his best to ignore the surprise on Malik’s face when he came to join them, picking out a cushion at his side and settling down.

‘Good morning.’ The greeting was offered to the table, but he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact, however Ishizu and Rishid echoed his greeting in equally cheerful tones back to him. 

‘I thought you were going to lie on,’ Malik said, offering Bakura a segment of his mandarin orange.

‘Well, I –’ Bakura swore he could feel the stare of Ishizu on him and instead focused on unpeeling the orange segment and working it into smaller pieces. ‘I wanted to spend time with you.’ 

Malik frowned, taking a segment of the orange himself and hesitating before he put it in his mouth. ‘Okay, then.’ 

‘We could maybe get a hike in this morning,’ Bakura offered, taking a pinch of the orange and popping it into his mouth. ‘You enjoyed yesterday’s.’

‘I think there’s supposed to be a lake nearby,’ Rishid offered as Malik eyed Bakura up. ‘It might have frozen over in this weather.’

‘Yesterday was quite an active day,’ Malik said, tearing his gaze from Bakura to look back to his siblings. ‘I thought I might read.’

‘But we’re only here a week,’ Bakura prompted. ‘We should go out and see the area.’

‘You haven’t had breakfast yet.’

‘I’ll grab a coffee can.’

‘That’s not food.’

‘Then I’ll take some food with me.’

‘Malik, how often do you get to explore a place like this?’ Ishizu chimed in.

‘We could take a quick walk to the lake,’ Malik conceded, draining the last of his tea from the cup. ‘But after breakfast.’

He picked up his chopsticks to take the  _ tamagoyaki _ from his plate again, while Bakura took the teapot on the table and attempted to refill Malik’s cup. A dribble trickled out sadly and pooled in the bottom of the teacup, full of the specs of tea leaf fragments and now a deep auburn colour from over-steeping.

‘I’ll rebrew.’ Bakura hopped up from the table, taking the teapot into the kitchen. 

‘I don’t need any more tea,’ Malik called out after him. ‘I’ll finish this one.’

Bakura pretended not to hear as he refilled the teapot from the water heater. He grabbed himself a sweet coffee tin from the fridge and waited for the tea to brew, counting and valuing each of the all too brief seconds that it afforded him away from the watch of Ishizu and Rishid. He couldn’t bear to look up at them; they were probably both judging and grading his performance as if he were some kind of ice dancer. He half expected them to hold up score cards by the end of breakfast. 

With the tea brewed, Bakura returned the teapot to the table. He poured Malik a fresh cup of tea, and, after swallowing his pride, poured a helping for Ishizu and Rishid too. Malik ate painfully slowly, rooting Bakura to the table with him, and keeping him in the direct path of Ishizu and Rishid for as long as humanly possible. He nearly leapt on the breakfast dishes once Malik signalled that he was done, and gathered up Ishizu and Rishid’s too, just for an excuse to escape while Malik went to hunt down his scarf and gloves. 

‘It’s good you want to help,’ Malik said as they headed out the door, ‘but why are you doing it?’

‘I’m hurt that you assume there’s a motive behind this.’

‘I know you.’

‘Well you mustn’t have a good opinion of me then.’

‘I just think something’s wrong.’

Bakura took Malik’s hand in his as they walked, giving it an extra squeeze.

‘You’re overthinking this.’

Malik looked down at their hands but continued on. ‘Only a short walk, I want to finish the book Yugi leant me.’

‘You can read later, but we need to make the most of the light while we have it.’

‘The light has only just appeared.’

‘Then we’ll get to use it all.’

They walked in silence for a moment, only the sparse bird calls reminding them that other life existed.

All at once Malik stopped. ‘I’m not dying, am I?’ 

Bakura blinked back at him. ‘What?’

‘You haven’t found out I have some incurable illness and—’

‘You should quit watching the soap operas, it’s nothing that dramatic. You’re fine.’

Bakura waited for Malik to continue walking so he could attempt to keep pace at his side, but Malik lingered a little, looking straight into Bakura’s eyes.

‘Are  _ you _ dying?’

‘I’ve already died once, technically two or three times really if you count—’

‘Well you’re not dying again, are you?’ Malik pushed with a frustrating sincerity.

‘Gods, Malik, why does anyone have to be dying?’ 

‘But you’d tell me if you were. If something was happening.’

Bakura nodded. 

‘Bakura, you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?’ Malik pushed, looking straight into his eyes as if he could see his very soul.

‘Yes,’ Bakura said, trying and failing to match Malik’s gaze. ‘I would tell you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. As January is going to be a busy month, updates are looking like they will have to be weekly to give me enough time to edit through.
> 
> Many thanks are particularly due to the wonderful Lily-Liegh who helped edit and beta this chapter and has provided me with so much encouragement throughout. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always very welcomed and I love seeing them. Thank you very much to everyone who left them on this fic it is so encouraging to see. <3


	6. 30th December

Malik twitched awake as the first rays of sunshine crept through the window. Immediately he slipped out of bed to draw the curtains over and unset Bakura’s alarm, before he stole out of the room. There was no time for getting dressed, not when it could risk waking Bakura, so he closed the door as softly as he was able to and grabbed a warm blanket from the cupboard on his way past. It kept off the morning chill as he pulled it over his shoulders and wrapped it about himself. The floorboards had gotten so cold during night until they were as cool as steel; Malik could feel the chill up through his feet and creeping up his legs.

He pulled the blanket tighter about himself in an attempt to dissuade the chill from encroaching in on him, but it did nothing for the invasive spots of guilt that nagged at him too. This was better for both of them, he had decided. Bakura had to be worn out from fretting after him nearly all week, Malik knew that  _ he _ sure as hell was at any rate. Under Bakura’s watch, Malik’s winter boots had seen more use in three days than they had in the last month. Even when the lazy winter daylight did mercifully fade, and they were finally able to retire back to the cabin, Bakura would soon gather everybody into the living room to prompt some activity. 

If Bakura felt even half as exhausted as Malik did, then he would certainly be glad for the forced lie-in. 

Malik hesitated as he saw a gentle, amber glow around the door to the living area. With light, deliberate steps, Malik crept up to the door and carefully rolled it back to see that a little lamp had been lit in the corner. The gentle lamplight illuminated Rishid as he crouched down beside the fireplace, setting little sticks up and around a small smoking pile of waste papers and readying the rest of the kindling. 

Malik stepped into the living room and slipped the door closed behind him. Although slight, the gentle sound was enough to prick Rishid’s keen ears, and he looked up to see his brother.

‘Good morning, Malik,’ he greeted, his voice soft and low.

‘Good morning.’

Malik sat down beside Rishid, pulling half the blanket about his legs and tucking the rest over Rishid’s knees.

Rishid gave a nod. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Malik sat back as he watched Rishid work with nimble, steady hands to build up the fire.

‘Oh, Malik, I found the rest of your chocolates sitting by the trashcan this morning,’ Rishid said as he worked. ‘I almost threw them out with the empty packets, but there was nearly half a box left. I set it in the top cupboard for you.’

Malik felt his heart sink. ‘I must have gotten that box mixed up with the one from the day before. Thank you for saving them.’

Rishid glanced back to Malik with a curious eye, and then sat back to draw level with him and watch the fireplace. 

‘I’m sure I saw Ishizu eyeing up some of those chocolates yesterday,’ Rishid said. ‘I’m sure she would be delighted if you wished to donate the rest of the box.’

Malik gave a nod. ‘That’s a good idea; I’m sure she’d enjoy them.’

The flickers of infantile flames could be seen creeping out from the little wooden structure now, attempting to lick up the sticks.

‘Now what do you do?’ Malik asked, leaning his shoulder into Rishid’s warmth as he pulled the blanket further up about them.

‘If it catches we’ll add the larger pieces of wood and build it up.’

Malik nodded watching the miniature pyre, which only seemed good for the trickle of smoke that was pulled out from the wood like a silk ribbon from a magician’s hat. 

‘If you’re up early tomorrow I can let you try.’

Malik nodded, entranced by the swirls of smoke that writhed in the air before twisting away into nothing once more.

‘Why are you up so early this morning, Malik?’

‘Because Bakura wakes up earlier now.’

Rishid considered him for a moment.

‘So you’re waking up earlier to avoid him?’

‘I like the morning,’ Malik said. ‘It’s peaceful and I have it all to myself.’

‘Do you want me to leave you,’ Rishid asked gently, ‘so you can collect your morning thoughts?’

Malik shook his head. ‘I just want some time apart from him for now.’

Rishid nodded.

‘He doesn’t even like the morning; he hates it,’ Malik continued. ‘As soon as he wakes up he just complains about how cold and tired he is until he gets a drink, but now he won’t even do that.’

One of the sticks crackled as the flames grew over it and Rishid reached across to test a couple of smaller logs on the emergent flames.

‘It’s not like Bakura,’ Malik said softly, and Rishid hesitated a moment before adding the final log.

‘You’ve been in a relationship for some time now,’ Rishid noted. ‘He might be trying to show you how much he cares.’

‘If he really cared he’d tell me what’s wrong.’

Rishid shifted under the blanket and Malik found himself tucked into a loose embrace. He rested his head on Rishid’s chest, listening to his gentle breaths, as they watched the woodsmoke together.

 

* * *

 

Malik attempted to move his fingers but he wasn’t having much success. The brain signals were definitely being sent; he had been focused on this particular task for the past ten minutes, but the numbness that had crept through the digits was scrambling the message, and he had no idea how successful his small mission had been. 

Malik looked down at his trapped hand, and could see his fingertips twitch before the sensation truly registered. The relief from this small victory was short lived as the successful movement sparked waves of pins and needles down the side of his hand. 

Bakura plucked up his cup with his own free hand, taking a small sip and seemingly oblivious to Malik’s hints of discomfort. Malik could only wonder at how comfortable Bakura appeared to be; propped up lazily on his right elbow, he studied the book they had shared between them, a finger teasing at the corner of the page between sips of tea, while his other hand kept Malik’s pinned unnaturally to the table top. 

Malik gingerly took up his own cup and carefully swirled it with his left hand. It was only ten am and this was already his fourth cup of tea. 

‘Have you gotten to the joke yet?’ Bakura asked. 

‘Nope.’

‘Tell me when you get to it.’

‘I will.’

Malik set the cup down without taking a sip, and tried to focus on reading again. His eyes had been dancing around the same couple of sentences on the page like a cloud of soap suds circling a drain, and he still wasn’t sure which sentences he’d read and which he had just looked at.

A twinge of prickles leapt up Malik’s arm and he rolled his shoulder trying to conjure a new place to rest his elbow that might somehow prevent the blood draining from his hand. Bakura finally noticed the commotion and looked down at Malik’s trapped hand. 

‘Do you need it back?’ he asked innocently.

Malik stopped fidgeting. ‘Yes.’

Bakura released his grip and Malik dropped his arm down. Flexing his aching fingers as much as possible and twisting his shoulder to stretch it out. 

‘Sorry, might have held on a little long there,’ Bakura said getting up and circling round to Malik’s other side. 

Malik dropped his left hand under the table, safely out of the way, ‘I don’t want to switch hands.’

Bakura smiled, his hand still hovering over the table top, ‘I was just taking your cup. Are you done?’

Malik slid the cup towards him, watching him take it and accepting the kiss on his cheek as he left. Bakura’s lips were warm and wet from tea, and as soon as he was out of view, Malik rubbed at the spot with his hand to dry it.

‘Did you see that?’ he mouthed across to Yugi and Ryou, who had taken up their preferred seats around the fireplace and were rifling through each other’s decks. 

Yugi was too entranced in the task at hand to see, but Ryou caught his eye. He gave a half-hearted shrug and returned back to his cards, just a little too quickly. Whatever was going on Ryou had to be a part of it somehow, although Malik couldn’t figure out why or how he could be.

Bakura returned from the kitchen empty handed and, although he would never have thought that such a sight would ever have produced such a reaction, Malik felt a strong urge to drop to his knees and praise whichever deity had allowed this miracle to take place. 

However his new found conviction was short lived; it dissolved the second that Bakura opened his mouth. 

‘We should go out.’

‘We’ve gone out,’ Malik reminded him. ‘We’ve been out every single day, several times a day.’

‘So let’s not break our streak.’

Malik turned his attention back to the book. ‘I haven’t finished reading.’

‘Malik, you’ve been reading the same page for the last half hour; you’re bored,’ Bakura said, prodding at Malik’s shoulder to move him on. ‘Come on, we’ll find something fun to do outside instead.’

‘There is nothing left to do outside. We’ve done it all. I’m staying in.’

Bakura nodded, ‘Is that what you—’

‘Yes.’

‘Then we’ll stay in.’

Malik breathed a sigh of relief. ‘ _ You _ don’t have to. If you want to go out, you can go out.’

Bakura gave a crooked grin, a poor imitation of his usual self-satisfied smirk. ‘I’d rather stay with you.’

He laid a hand on Malik’s shoulder, rubbing up across his neck and shoulders, in what Malik assumed was intended to be a romantic gesture, but instead it felt more akin to scratching behind a dog’s ear after they’d performed a trick. 

‘I’m going to take some time for myself,’ Malik announced, closing the book over and setting it to the side. ‘Maybe update my Instagram or something.’ 

Bakura nodded, ‘I guess we could do that for a while. I might have another chocolate box we could open while—’

‘No, not we,’ Malik said firmly. ‘Just me. That’s what I want to do.’

Malik reached up and held Bakura’s hand on his shoulder, tracing his fingers over the back of his hand while a rare golden moment of silence settled over them. 

‘What do you want to do?’ Malik finally asked. ‘Take me out of the picture. Right now, at this moment, what do you want to be doing?’

There was silence once more and, for one blissful second, Malik actually thought that Bakura might actually be considering the question before he heard the usual party line again.

‘Anything you want.’

At first Malik thought it was despair, a fraction of heartbreak over what had somehow broken between them, but he found himself standing and staring right back at Bakura before he recognised the tense string of fury running down through his chest. 

_ Fine, fuck it. _

‘I want to talk.’

‘About what?’

Ignoring the cautious looks from Ryou and Yugi, Malik grabbed Bakura’s wrist and pulled him along in tow, heading to their bedroom. Bakura didn’t put up any resistance, allowing himself to be dragged out of the living area and pushed into the bedroom.

Bakura remained standing where he had been placed, watching as Malik closed the door and started to pace the room. Malik swallowed back against the disgust of this new passivity as he waited for Bakura to break the silence, to say anything.

‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘Whatever it is that happened to you.’

Bakura visibly bristled up and Malik could see some sort of resolve set itself in his eyes. It might have been reassuring if it were directed towards anybody else but himself. 

‘Malik, I don’t know what—’

‘You’re acting differently; you have been since we got here. I want to know why.’

‘Malik, we’re on holiday,’ Bakura dismissed with a shrug. ‘I’m just trying to make sure we enjoy it.’ He almost looked genuine and it would have taken very little for Malik to let himself be duped by the lie, but that wasn’t going to happen. He knew his own mind, he wasn’t just seeing things. 

‘Bakura, we have been outside in the woods every day, multiple times a day to satisfy your dogged attempts to ensure I participate in every outdoor activity I could ever possibly think up,’ Malik said, pointing to him. ‘And when we are indoors, you won’t let me be for one second. I’m surprised you’re even letting me go to the bathroom without chaperoning me there at this point.’

‘You’re being ridiculous.’

‘It’s not an exaggeration.’ Malik was all but bouncing from wall to wall now as he felt the energy building within him. ‘Why can’t we just do nothing?’

‘Malik, we  _ were _ just doing nothing.’

‘But then you decided we were going out.’

‘We don’t have to go out.’

‘But why did you suggest it?’ Malik snapped, his hands wringing the air as he attempted to get Bakura to understand. ‘ _ You _ don’t want to go out.  _ You _ don’t like it when we are out. And then you try to hide all that and pretend everything is okay. So why would you even suggest it in the first place?’

‘I’m trying to enjoy our holiday break.’

Malik halted in front of Bakura, incredulous. 

‘You’re joking right? You’re enjoying this? I haven’t seen you enjoy a single moment in the past week.’ 

‘How do you know I’m not?’

‘Because I know you,’ Malik said rounding on him. ‘Bakura, we have been out in the snow every day and I have not been hit by a single snowball yet. It’s nearly been a week.’

‘So you’re taking issue with the fact that I’m not acting like an asshole.’

‘That you’re not acting like yourself.’

‘I.E., an asshole.’ 

‘At least it shows you have some personality,’ Malik snapped. ‘We haven’t had a real conversation all week. When you aren’t just blindly agreeing with anything I say, I’m just getting stock phrases and questions off you. I might as well start a conversation with Siri, at least she can be sarcastic sometimes.’

‘So you’ll only take me if I act like a dick then?’ Bakura said, clenching his fists.

‘Since when did you start measuring yourself up against some kind of gold standard?’

‘You don’t have a monopoly on self-improvement, Malik,’ Bakura said quietly. ‘Maybe I just want to better myself as well. Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do, prune away all your faults and sins. Why shouldn’t I do it too?’

‘Because there will be nothing left.’ 

Bakura visibly flinched, and Malik felt the heat at his core instantly cool to a nauseating chill. 

‘I don’t mean it like that,’ Malik said, a little softer, ‘but this isn’t right. You’re chipping yourself away to nothing, for what?’

Bakura didn’t reply.

‘What happened?’ Malik said it so softly that he was surprised Bakura heard it.

‘Nothing.’ He moved away completely now, taking a great interest in the view outside the window instead of meeting Malik’s eye. 

‘You’re making something out of nothing,’ Bakura continued flatly. ‘If trying to treat you a little better is so offensive, then the problem is with you, not me.’

‘What happened?’ Malik asked again, standing a little closer. ‘Tell me.’

Bakura bristled up at the demand but Malik stood firm. ‘I need to know if something is wrong so I can fix it.’

‘I don’t need to tell you every little detail—’

‘Yes you do, that’s how this works.’

‘Do you tell me every single thing that happens to you?’

Malik shrugged. ‘I thought you wanted to do what I want. Well this is what I want.’

‘You can’t have this.’

‘And that’s where you draw the line?’

‘On my privacy? Yes.’

‘And why do you suddenly need that?’

‘Malik, can you hear yourself?’

‘Of course, I can, and I’m being completely unreasonable.’ Malik dropped down onto the mattress exhausted, ‘but you’re still trying to argue rationally with me.’

‘As opposed to what?’

‘Telling me to fuck off probably.’

Malik ran his hands through his hair, ‘You don’t have to tell me everything, of course you don’t.’

Bakura blinked back at him. ‘But?’ he prompted.

‘This is important; there’s something more to it. You are not okay, and I can’t have this conversation when you’re pretending that I’m just seeing things.’

Malik pushed himself back off the mattress and headed for the door instead. ‘If you want to pretend everything is fine, you can do that, but I can’t deal with that bullshit, not now. Just let me be alone for a bit.’

Malik turned and left closing the door gently behind himself. He lingered in the little hallway, his hand hovering over the handle. He considered if something could have been said or done to fix it, to reset things back to normal. But if Bakura didn’t want to talk properly then fuck it, what was the point?

Malik walked back to the living area, noting that Yugi and Ryou had now set up their decks to duel.

They both looked up with bright smiles, but Malik could see that it didn’t quite reach their eyes. They had to have guessed he’d been fighting with Bakura, but they made no clear indication of it as Malik took a cushion beside them to seat himself.

‘Can I watch?’ Malik asked settling his gaze down on the field to avoid Ryou’s knowing eye.

‘Of course.’ Yugi, the ever-accommodating host, cleared away the excess cards to give Malik a better view of the field as he explained their own home brewed rules for the match. 

Malik heard the thuds of doors being slid open just a little too forcefully and Bakura stomped into the living area, looking up and stopping short when he spotted Malik. Malik stared back, waiting for the ensuing chaos. 

Yugi looked up from his cards, and forced a smile. ‘Bakura-kun, we could play with tag teams if you—’

Bakura stormed on heading to the front door. A moment of silence fell over the group, and then the door closed. Ryou returned to shuffling his deck, but Yugi froze, staring back at the doorway. ‘What’s wrong with Bakura-kun?’

The question hung in the air, released without direction while Malik helped clear away the junk on the table.

‘So you chose each other’s decks, do you have regulations to keep it balanced?’

Yugi looked back to the table, giving his cards a shuffle before he looked back up to Malik, ‘Do you—’

‘So is there anything to stop you from giving someone a deck full of seven star monsters or redundant spell cards?’

Ryou cleared his throat. ‘Maybe you want to—’

‘I just want to watch a duel,’ Malik assured them with a tired smile. 

Yugi and Ryou glanced at each other once more, but then the awkwardness faded from their expressions and their smiles seemed genuine once more. 

‘Okay,’ Yugi agreed, nodding to Ryou. ‘Then let’s duel.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd been waiting so long for that fight to finally happen and from reader comments it seems like that feeling was a universal one. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and many thanks are due to beautiful, wonderful Lily-Liegh who was my beta on this one and had to suffer though my many 'what do you think about this, though?' questions. 
> 
> Thank you so so much to everyone who reads and comments you guys are amazing and every comment and kudos really does make my day. Thank you. : )


	7. 31st December (morning)

Bakura stamped his feet for what must have been the third time that minute, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. There was no feeling at all below his ankles; he might as well have had concrete blocks instead of feet.

Malik had advised him to pack boots to cope with the weather, but Bakura had been certain that sneakers would suffice. It was easy enough to combat the low temperatures by doubling up his socks, but the shoes did little to keep out the damp as melting snow seeped through the soft sides and soaked up into his socks. 

Not that he could feel the damp anymore. Bakura kicked his feet again, bouncing the heel of one shoe off the toe of the other and marvelling at the complete lack of sensation. He kicked down harder but nothing. Hell, his toes could be broken for all he knew and he doubted that it would register at all. 

A cheer of supportive shouts captured his attention once more, and Bakura looked up just in time to see Ryou begin sliding down the snowy hill on a makeshift sleigh: a plastic tray. Bakura craned his neck to get a view over the crest of the hill and watched as Ryou slid straight over the target that Yugi had painted in the snow with tropical fruit soda.

The tray finally slowed to a stop well clear of the target, allowing Ryou the chance to hobble up as he struggled to get his balance after the fast ride. Ishizu observed the sleigh’s trail down the mountain but shook her head, writing an elegant 0 into Ryou’s column. 

‘I’m afraid that’s zero, Ryou-kun,’ she called down as Ryou slowly made his way back up the hill with the tray, struggling through the snow. 

‘That puts him out of the running,’ Malik noted reading over her shoulder. ‘He can’t catch up; it’s between Yugi and Rishid now.’

Bakura leant in towards the pair as if to read the scoresheet, gently bumping elbows with Malik. A piece of fleeting contact, but the question was there:  _ Are we okay? _

Malik stepped away, abandoning the scoring sheet, and choosing instead to talk with Yugi about sledging strategies.

Bakura could only watch on as he chatted warmly with Yugi, eyes bright with what Bakura could only assume was feigned enthusiasm as Yugi detailed the various advantages and disadvantages of sledding feet or head first. 

Malik and Yugi extended out their hands to Ryou as he reached the crest of the hilltop, pulling him up onto the more level ground. Ryou’s eyes sparkled with joy as Malik complimented his run, even through the due condolences. Bakura hoped to ignore them somewhat, but there was little else to keep his attention out here; and the sound of good natured chatter and laughter hung mercilessly in the air, feeding the seed of nausea in Bakura’s stomach.

‘Did something happen between you two?’

Bakura cringed as Ishizu spoke up, startled out of his thoughts by the unsettling reminder of her presence. 

‘Not at all,’ he replied, hoping to affect a more light-hearted tone, although even he could hear the flatness of his words. ‘Malik just hasn’t gotten to spend much time with Yugi and Ryou, so we decided that—’ 

‘Bakura, I’m not keeping tabs here,’ Ishizu said softly as they watched Rishid pat Ryou’s shoulder in support and nearly toppled him in the process. ‘I’ve seen you trying this week, you’ve really made an effort, and I didn’t think… I wouldn’t have thought...’

Ishizu trailed off, plucking a strand of dark hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear, before giving Bakura a smile that felt oddly genuine to Bakura’s eye. ‘Thank you.’

Malik was now helping Rishid set up his run, supposedly offering him the advice and tactics that he had gleaned from Yugi, as they lined up the sleigh. 

‘He might take some time but he will come around,’ Ishizu promised. ‘He just needs to get used to someone showing that they care about him. It can be jarring to be treated with kindness when you don’t think you want it.’

Bakura just gave a nod, not trusting himself to speak civilly when he felt this wounded. Ishizu, however, had no idea when to stop.

‘It won’t be instant, but I do think that this will be very good for Malik, and he’ll see it too, I promise.’ 

‘Great.’

It was the simplest response that he could muster, but even in the one syllable Bakura could hear his voice croak a little, the brevity of the sentiment and ensuing silence only drawing all the more attention to it, like a gunshot in a library. 

Ishizu immediately flagged it, and Bakura could see her watchful eye examine him out of the corner of his vision. He attempted to think up any reply that would cut short the next phase of her rambling speech, when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, barely applying any pressure, but nonetheless a very real, albeit baffling, presence.

‘You’re genuinely upset about this, aren’t you?’  

Bakura bit his tongue, every snarky response coming to mind unhelpfully, when he was thankfully saved from responding by a panicked shout from the sledders.

Bakura and Ishizu both looked up to see that Rishid, and the tray, had disappeared. Malik, Yugi and Ryou watched on from their spot on the hilltop, crowded together like schoolchildren as they peered down the hill after him. 

‘Malik-kun, I don’t think he was ready,’ Yugi noted.

‘He did get a good score though,’ Ryou said. ‘Does it still count towards his total if it wasn’t intentional?’

Ishizu went to investigate, hopping between the mounds of snow in attempt to save her trousers from the weather, while Bakura hung back from the group. With redoubled efforts he began to grind the heel of his shoe onto his toes again. It only managed to rouse the weakest ghost of sensation, but that in itself was intriguing and he chased after it, bearing even more force down on that particular spot. 

‘Bakura-kun?’ 

Bakura looked up to see Ryou, a sheepish smile on his face although his eyes were tired. Just over his shoulder, Bakura could spot Malik who was now happily chatting to Ishizu. How did that work out? She was the one he should be mad at.

‘Bakura!’ 

Bakura looked back to Ryou with a raised eyebrow. ‘You have my undivided attention.’

‘Could we go back to the cabin? I have a small situation, but I need an excuse to leave. If you maybe said that we needed—’

‘We’re going back to the cabin,’ Bakura shouted out, before promptly turning tail and leaving.

Bakura could hear Ryou offer up some form of excuse behind him, a half-hearted claim about them both being tired, before he followed.

‘Bakura. Bakura.’ Ryou’s voice was quiet but clipped. He was holding back from calling out, probably keeping his voice muted enough so that it was unlikely to be heard by the rest of the group.

Bakura stopped, exaggerating a long suffering sigh, as he looked back to see that Ryou had only just made it to the pathway down the hill, and was hobbling awkwardly, trying to gain speed, or some form of forward momentum perhaps. It did little good; he was severely flagging and was more at risk of losing his balance on the uneven ground than of catching up in any timely fashion.

Bakura frowned. ‘What are you doing?’

Ryou continued to stumble along, grimacing with each hop, and making little progress as he pushed through the snow. Bakura tracked back and watched as Ryou took another step, although he slowed his pace with relief when he saw Bakura returning for him. Up close, Bakura could see that Ryou’s eyes were fresh, but watering as he continued on with his unusual gait.

Bakura leant back against a nearby tree as he watched Ryou’s slow stumbling progress through the snow. ‘Which leg?’ 

Ryou stopped and gave a sigh. ‘The left.’

Bakura pushed himself up off from the tree trunk and went to Ryou’s left, allowing him to put his arm about his shoulders for support. 

‘This is going to be a nightmare to navigate’ Bakura warned, as Ryou hobbled along with his new support. ‘The snow is too high to hop on.’

‘This is helping though,’ Ryou assured him, sucking air through his teeth with each step.

‘And the others just let you hobble away, did they?’

‘The snow wasn’t as deep up there. It was easier to hide it.’

‘Because it would be unthinkable to let your friends suspect an injury.’

‘I didn’t want them to worry; they’re having fun.’

Bakura raised an eyebrow. ‘So you decided to tell me instead?’

‘You didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself either.’

Bakura grit his teeth and just focused on pushing their pace onwards. Everybody had to have an opinion on his mood today, didn’t they? 

Although the snow was still deep enough that they nearly needed to wade through, the hill’s gradient was finally evening out, suggesting that they weren’t too far from the cabin now. 

‘Malik-kun’s still angry, then?’ Ryou asked as they trudged on through snow. 

‘I don’t know,’ Bakura said. ‘Everyone is talking to him far more than I am. Why don’t you ask him yourself?’

‘He’s not talking to you?’

They trudged on in silence, the only sound the assault of their feet upon the snow and Ryou’s muted whimpers. Finally, the trees began to thin out as the forest’s edge came into view.

‘You must have put your full weight on that leg to sell your little act,’ Bakura noted as they broke through the border of trees into the clearing where the cabin was.

‘I only had to do it for a short while,’ Ryou assured him.

‘How did you manage it?’

‘Slowly.’

‘Must have been excruciating.’

‘It was a little sore.’

Bakura scoffed at that one. ‘Only a little?’

Ryou didn’t even look up, instead keeping his gaze fixed right on the cabin.

‘So how long have you been walking on it?’ Bakura asked.

‘Pardon?’

‘How many toboggan rides ago did you get that injury?’

Ryou just kept up his stumbling gait but refused eye contact. ‘I don’t remember.’

The snow finally gave away as it evened out into a more negotiable plain, the snow well-trodden around the clearing, making their journey far less awkward and clumsy.

‘Your second run,’ Bakura said. ‘The one where you slipped off the sleigh and rolled halfway down the hill. It wasn’t then, was it?’ 

Silence. 

Bakura looked down to Ryou who must have been able to feel his intense stare, but he didn’t look up. Instead he had his eyes set on the cabin, a building that just didn’t seem to come any quicker, regardless of their pace. 

‘It didn’t get really bad until that last ride’ Ryou offered. ‘I was doing alright until then.’ 

Bakura laughed. ‘So naturally you just put on a brave face for the whole morning.’

‘It was the best option.’

‘Have you just gotten so used to lying to people that you forget you have other options?’

‘I had a good teacher,’ Ryou grumbled back. 

‘ _ I _ never swore you to secrecy,’ Bakura pointed out. ‘Any lies were all your own doing.’

‘I was protecting my friends.’

‘You were always fond of that little excuse, weren’t you?’

‘Okay, I can walk from here,’ Ryou said, detaching from Bakura to hobble on by himself. He looked pathetic facing the snow alone in such a state, but he didn’t hesitate and kept pushing himself at his own steady pace. 

‘I’ve touched a nerve?’ Bakura asked keeping pace with Ryou as they reached the pathway up to the porch.

‘You’re upset about Malik and taking it out on me.’

‘I’m not upset. I don’t care if he wants to play the silent game.’

They got to the porch and Ryou gripped hard on the banister to help himself hop up the steps.

‘Then tell him what’s going on,’ Ryou said as he got to the front door; he stood to the side to politely wait for Bakura to unlock the door. ‘Tell him, and then you can continue to fake it for the next couple of days. Ishizu won’t realise.’

Bakura unlocked the door and pushed on, leaving Ryou to limp in himself.

‘I don’t want to just fake it.’

‘Why not?’

Bakura headed straight to the kitchen to raid the cupboards for some kind of snack. A garishly coloured box of sakura mochi sat in easy reach so he pulled it down and ripped the cardboard open. He popped one into his mouth and watched as Ryou finally made it into the living room and dropped onto one of the cushions by the cold fireplace. He was careful to position his ankle out to the side to take the pressure off it and gently poked at the site of the injury with tentative fingers.

‘I don’t see why Malik has any right to be getting pissy at me for attempting to improve myself,’ Bakura said as he took another mochi, twirling it in his fingers whilst he swallowed down the remains of his previous one. ‘What does he have to be so upset about?’ 

‘Ask Malik,’ Ryou said, breathing through clenched teeth as he unlaced his boot. He winced as he gingerly attempted to remove his foot from the item, but then stopped to unlace it further. 

‘Malik won’t talk to me,’ Bakura pointed out before he pushed the second mochi into his mouth giving it a vigorous chew.

‘Well that won’t end if you’re also refusing to talk to him.’ Ryou gently poked at his swollen ankle and instantly recoiled. ‘Do you think it’s sprained? It’s swelling a bit.’

‘Prop it up on the fireplace,’ Bakura instructed. He winced as he quickly swallowed down the second dumpling and rolled his tongue about his mouth to try and dislodge any chucks of sickeningly floral mochi that might remain. 

‘I can’t talk to Malik when he isn’t talking to me’, Bakura continued, pushing away the box and returning to the _ irori  _ to drop down beside Ryou. 

‘Well, talk to him anyway.’

‘And tell him what? What can I actually say to him?’ Bakura asked, rounding on Ryou. Ryou looked away, seeming for all the world as if he were actually thinking it over. Bakura leant back and released a pent up sigh. ‘How did this get so fucked up?’ 

‘Say that Ishizu is trying to blackmail you.’ 

Bakura combed his fingers back through his hair and looked across his shoulder to Ryou who was shifting around the cushions to find an easier way to rest his foot. ‘Are you kidding me?’

Ryou blinked back at him. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t think that the Grand Orchestrator of my Waking Torment would approve of her little scheme being revealed,’ Bakura growled. ‘She’d skip straight along to Mutou and start spilling everything.’

Ryou gave a heavy sigh and his head dropped down; a curtain of his fine white hair slipped down across his face and shielding him from Bakura’s gaze. The words came slowly, stumbling out without grace. ‘I think Yugi knows.’

‘What do you mean ‘ _ Yugi knows _ ’?’

‘I mean, I don’t know, not for certain, but…’ Ryou didn’t look up, but Bakura could see his shoulders fall as he sighed again. ‘He has to know who you really are, he’d seen your old body before, and we didn’t really concoct a convincing story. Yugi’s smarter than that... I don’t know if he ever truly believed it in the first place.’

‘Well, he must have believed it,’ Bakura said, ‘If he didn’t, he’d have told you.’

‘I think he’s waiting for me to tell him the truth,’ Ryou shifted his position again, unable to get comfortable. 

‘It’s been over a year,’ Bakura said. ‘He’d have said  _ something _ by now.’

Ryou shook his head, ‘Yugi’s patient; he’ll wait until I’m ready.’

‘So why haven’t  _ you _ told him?’

‘I’m not ready.’ Ryou said it so simply as if it made all the sense in the world, and Bakura was left waiting for the rest of the explanation. Ryou continued to poke at his foot. ‘I don’t want to lose him.’

‘If you’re right, and he already knows,’ Bakura said pointedly, ‘then he hasn’t dumped you for it. So just get it over with.’

‘It’s been so long.’ Ryou winced as he attempted to move his leg and breathed in sharply. ‘I just need the right moment.’

With a roll of his eyes, Bakura pushed himself off the floor and heading to the kitchen to rummage the cupboards. ‘The right moment is before Yugi decides to surprise you and tell you that he’s known all along,’

‘I think that’s unlikely,’ Ryou said carefully.

Bakura grabbed a packet of painkillers from the cupboard, and closed the door, inspecting Ryou with a careful eye. He grabbed a soda from the counter, pointing it in his direction as he approached.

‘You think that Yugi knows… that you know… he knows?’

Ryou gave a small nod before Bakura threw the box of tablets at his chest. 

‘And even though you both know this is all a ridiculous charade, you’re both playing along, purely because the other hasn’t mentioned it yet?’

Bakura threw the can to Ryou, who fumbled the catch as he juggled with it mid-air and finally caught it in the crook of his arm. He gave Bakura a dirty look as he popped the can open and took out two tablets. ‘Well, I wouldn’t call it ridiculous, it’s more of a complicated--’

‘And even though this is all completely unnecessary, you have been stressing and worrying about this,’ Bakura continued. ‘For a whole year.’

Ryou swallowed down his first tablet, nearly choking on the bubbles of soda and looking like he might retaliate but Bakura jumped in before he could. 

‘And neither of you will put the other out of their misery?’

‘Listen--’

‘A whole year, Ryou, a whole year,’ Bakura stressed, ‘And you’re fretting and stressing about what Yugi will say when he finds out,. And there there’s the guilt, the panic the moments of defiance, the moments of fear as you torture yourself with schrodinger’s break up, because Yugi might suddenly do a 360, and leave just because you said what he already knew out loud!’ 

Ryou quickly swallowed down his second tablet and set the can to the side.

‘You’ve done this for over a year, Ryou! How is this the easier option?’

‘It’s hard to explain,’ Ryou said, giving a shrug. ‘It’s just how we work. You wouldn’t understand.’

‘No, and I’m glad I don’t.’

Despite himself Bakura couldn’t help but laugh as he left Ryou behind at the fireplace and headed back towards the hallway.  _ And Ishizu had thought he and Malik were dysfunctional? _

Ryou frowned, confused at the sudden laughter. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I need to find Malik.’

The frown melted away into a small smile and Ryou nodded his approval, twisting himself around to watch Bakura grab his things as he prepared to go out. ‘Do you know what you’re going to say?’

Bakura looked back at Ryou, propped up pathetically with his pillows, but craning his neck around to try and see Bakura despite his limitations.

Bakura pulled on his gloves, his mind coming up blank. 

‘Nope,’ he admitted, heading out into the little hall and pulling open the door. ‘But I’m sure as hell not going to wait a year to think something up.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m not going to lie this chapter is particularly late for a great number of reasons as February, despite being the shortest month, ended up being the most hectic (although I was able to take a trip out to see my beautiful girlfriend for Valentine’s week so it was also a good month). 
> 
> On top of all that I decided that some rewrites were needed on the last three chapters to fix something that had been nagging me about them, and apparently February was the month to do that in too. >.< But restructuring has been completed and things have calmed down again, so all I can do is thank you for your patience during that very impromptu and unplanned story hiatus. 
> 
> A great many thanks is also due to my gorgeous beta, lilyliegh for all of her help and patience as she read through about three drafts of this chapter for me. I honestly wouldn’t be able to do this without her. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading, all comments and kudos are greatly greatly appreciated, and a much quicker turn around for chapter 8 is to be expected don’t worry. : )


	8. 31st December (afternoon)

Malik rolled his shoulders as he stretched out his back. His limbs were being worked upon by a series of aches that the cold seemed only too happy to amplify for him, and he wanted nothing more than to go lie down on his bed. It should have been a satisfying pain, the kind that usually follows a workout, and any other day he might have taken each of the bruises that were slowly blossoming over his skin as evidence that he had taken advantage of the day and joined in the sledging and exercise; instead it just pestered him.

The novelty of the winter weather had long since worn away too, and it just proved to be another infuriating obstacle in his way. It required a conscious effort to lift each foot fully out of the snow before taking a step, but Malik just found himself stumbling through it, driving each boot through the piles of snow as his feet naturally dragged, heavy as rocks.

Rishid was managing to lead their small party back to the cabin, carrying the tray and clipboard as he listened to Yugi. Although Rishid’s pace was more of an amble, a habit that accommodated both Malik and Ishizu’s shorter strides, he was easily outwalking both of them today, and Yugi still had to jog a little to keep pace. 

Ishizu had been walking a little slower this week, and she seemed to stop every few yards to examine some aspect of the winter wonderland that she had found herself in; but she had been oddly silent the entire walk back, seeming more focused on carefully following the trampled path that Rishid and Yugi were leaving in their wake. 

Perhaps the cold was getting to her today. They had spent several hours on the hillside, and the abundance of knitwear and a padded coat still wasn’t able to keep all of the chill out. It certainly did seem reasonable as an excuse; after this week, Malik was certain that he was beginning to forget what the sensation of heat was like or how he could have ever thought it possible to be too warm. However, Malik knew his sister, and he could see that she was engrossed in thought, yet no matter what pace he set she still kept tightly to his side. 

The trees were beginning to thin again, signalling that they were approaching the clearing, the cabin and warmth. Every frozen muscle of Malik’s longed to be warmed by the fireside, but a heavy dread was brewing in his stomach as the edge of the clearing came into view, and his already slow pace crawled to a final stop.  

‘Malik?’ Ishizu hovered at his shoulder, her brow knitted into a frown as she waited on him. ‘What’s wrong?’

Rishid and Yugi stopped from their place at the head of the party, turning back to see what had happened. Malik gestured for them to head on, although it wasn’t until Ishizu nodded her approval that they continued walking. 

Malik closed his eyes as he attempted to gain some control of the unease that was burrowing through him, but he was all too aware of Ishizu’s presence at his side.

‘Ishizu, please continue on with the others. I just want a moment.’

Only silence followed, there was no sound of footsteps to be heard. Malik slowly breathed out, trying to exhale any of the worry that would be clouding his mind before he trusted himself to speak.

‘I’m fine,’ he insisted, hearing the very hollowness of his words himself and he cleared his throat a little to try and appear more sincere. ‘I just need a moment.’

Ishizu nodded, but she didn’t leave. ‘I think you’ve needed a lot of moments recently.’ 

Malik forced himself to inhale slowly to keep his voice measured and even. ‘You’ve been talking to Rishid?’ 

‘Rishid mentioned to me that he was concerned, yes.’

Malik breathed out again, before he looked her in the eye. She looked almost serene at his side, but her fingers fidgeted at the toggle of her hood.

‘Malik, I just want to help you.’ She looked away for a moment. ‘But I don’t know how.’

‘Why do you think I need help?’

‘I’m having to guess.’ Ishizu looked back to him. ‘You don’t tell me these things, not until it’s too late.’ She let the toggle go, her hand held loosely at her throat as she spoke. ‘Malik, I’m worried about you.’

‘I know. I’m sorry I made you worry.’

Ishizu blinked, awaiting further response, but Malik wasn’t sure how to reply to a conversation he wasn’t expecting. He looked back up the snowy path, but Yugi and Rishid had already made their own way and were long out of sight.

‘Come on, we should head back to the cabin before we catch cold,’ Malik said.

Ishizu touched a hand to his shoulder, gently holding him back. ‘No, Malik I think we need to talk about this.’

He didn’t want to talk; he didn’t want to fight. He just wanted this all to be over, but the way out of it was through it. So many things he could say fluttered just out of reach of his searching mind. Instead he could only find himself able to voice the one nagging question that had been constantly running through his head the past couple of days.

‘What did you say to Bakura?’

Ishizu shook her head, although she didn’t look surprised by the question. 

‘He won’t tell me what you said, and I can’t figure out why,’ Malik pushed on. ‘It’s clearly had an effect on him, but I don’t know how you could have brought that about.’

‘Malik—’

‘I wanted to hear it from Bakura, but that doesn’t seem to be an option. So what did you say to him?’

‘I talked to him about the way he has been treating you,’ Ishizu said. ‘It was a problem, and I’m concerned that you couldn’t see it.’

‘Couldn’t see what?’ Malik asked running a hand through his hair. ‘There was nothing wrong. What horrific treatment has Bakura been subjecting me to?’ 

‘Complete disrespect and thoughtlessness.’ Ishizu stood a little straighter now, like a leading actress who had just been given their prompt. ‘On any occasion that we have met, Bakura has been rude, he has been arrogant, and that is to say nothing of his selfishness. He does not apply himself to anything, and he wouldn’t lift a finger to help anybody but himself. I don’t think that I have ever seen him offer any gestures or words of kindness towards you, and given everything that you risked to pull him from the shadows, he should be the one on his hands and knees thanking you every day.’ 

‘Well…’ Malik took a moment to try and process what he had just heard, but Ishizu wasn’t finished. 

‘You deserve someone that would walk through fire for you; that is my minimum requirement,’ she said softly. ‘I would, Rishid would, but sometimes I sincerely doubt that Bakura would even walk the length of himself if you needed him.’

Malik prickled at the words. ‘I think that’s unfair,’ he said coolly.

‘I thought it was accurate from what I had witnessed, but… I do admit that I might not have seen enough,’ Ishizu sighed, wrapping her arms a little tighter about herself as she continued, ‘I could not bear the thought that you had tied yourself to a partner who held you with low regard; that you would choose someone like that as some means to punish yourself.’

Malik swallowed. ‘You didn’t say that to Bakura did you?’

Ishizu sighed. ‘I did not say it in as many words but I did voice my concerns.’

‘You implied he was punishing me?’ 

‘I think that may have been a mistake.’ Ishizu did look genuinely remorseful as she removed her hand from Malik’s shoulder. ‘I may have pushed too hard, but I thought that I was trying to deal with someone who was indifferent to your wellbeing. I wanted to impress the importance of this.’ 

‘Ishizu, Bakura isn’t indifferent to my wellbeing.’

‘Malik, I had spent an evening watching how your friends treated each other. They were respectful and loving. They actually valued each other, and made an effort to show how much they cared about the other.’ Ishizu shook her head. ‘It was a world away from how Bakura was treating you that night. To see that kind of love, and know that you didn’t have it; it hurt.’

Malik couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

‘No, we don’t act like Yugi and Ryou,’ he admitted, ‘but I don’t want us to be like that either.’

‘Yes, you’ve made that very clear,’ Ishizu said. ‘I saw you pushing Bakura away the second he started to show you any kindness this week, and that worries me.’

‘I was concerned that he wasn’t acting like himself,’ Malik said firmly, ‘not because he was trying to do something nice.’

Malik tried to take a breath to calm himself and but the words all came tumbling out before he could inhale. 

‘He hasn’t been himself these past few days, and he hasn’t been happy. It’s more than him acting nice: we haven’t been talking at all. He’s clearly troubled about something, but he won’t talk to me about any of it. We’re not like Yugi and Ryou, but that doesn’t mean we don’t care.’

‘I do understand that—’

‘So this is why he’s been acting so strange. It’s because you asked him to act like that?’

‘I suggested that he learn from their example. I didn’t—’

‘We’re not like them,’ Malik repeated, finding himself pacing to try and burn up the agitation that was prickling through his body. ‘Yugi and Ryou are polite, Ishizu. They look more caring because they’re both well-mannered. They might do grand gestures for each other, but when it comes down to it, Ryou is  _ still _ telling Yugi that Bakura is his cousin. I don’t ever want to be like that.’

Malik wrung his hands, wishing he could just shout at the world. 

‘Bakura might be blunt, but at least he’s honest where it matters,’ Malik snapped. Ishizu nodded and Malik had to turn away to pace again. There was no satisfaction in pushing against an open door; Ishizu seemed to have infuriatingly come to the same conclusion and it was leeching the fight from him. 

‘At least he was,’ Malik said a little softer. ‘I don’t know now. I can’t even talk to him without watching him mince his words and not actually say anything. This isn’t Bakura, and I don’t know what to do.’

Malik came to a stop and shook his head, defeated, before he looked back to Ishizu.

‘Ishizu, why did you do it?’

Ishizu sighed. ‘Tell me I’m wrong.’

‘That Bakura doesn’t care for me? Of course you’re wrong.’

‘And I acknowledge that, but Malik please.’ Ishizu took his hands now, and looked up into his eyes. ‘Please, tell me that you haven’t been holding yourself back, denying yourself comfort because you think you don’t deserve it.’

Malik couldn’t meet her eye, focusing on the snow choked plants and vegetation just over her shoulder instead. 

‘That’s not what we’re talking about. I wouldn’t choose a partner just to punish myself.’

‘Malik, I’ve seen the guilt that you bear, what you have put upon yourself, and it breaks my heart.’ Although Malik couldn’t see her face, he could hear the little crack in her voice. ‘You moved from Egypt and began to distance yourself, not just from me but from Rishid. You set yourself impossible goals and were devastated when you couldn’t reach them. We were worried about you, and then to learn that you were attempting to resurrect a spirit that had caused so much suffering. What were we to think?’

‘What I told you at the time: that I was repaying a debt.’ Malik closed his eyes, massaging over the bridge of his nose as he tried to process what he had just learnt.

‘Malik, I failed you long ago, I…’

Malik opened his eyes and saw that Ishizu had dipped her gaze. 

‘I failed you back then because I did nothing, and I continued to do nothing until you ran away to Japan and I thought that I had lost you.’

She closed her eyes at the memory, and Malik found himself reaching out a hand to gently touch her arm. ‘I can’t just sit back anymore. I want to help. I want you to have a good life, but I worry…’

‘I have a good life.’

Ishizu looked back up at him. ‘Are you happy? Please Malik, please just be honest with me.’

Malik nodded. ‘Yes. It worked out. I’m happier now.’

He hugged her, and through the puffed jacket he could feel her smaller frame; the tension that racked her body dissolved away as she relaxed into the embrace.

‘Like it or not, but part of that is because of Bakura,’ Malik added, his voice muffled by the sleek padded texture of the coat.

‘I suppose I can come to accept that,’ Ishizu said. ‘Although if you could teach him a couple of table manners it might help my nerves a little.’

Malik smiled. ‘I can try, but I make no promises.’

He squeezed her a little tighter before they parted. ‘You’d be surprised, but he’s practically civilised compared to when we first—’

Malik’s ear exploded. 

He stumbled backwards, his ear glowing warm from the impact, but when he touched his fingers to the area it was cold and damp, small crystals of snow still clinging to his skin as they ran down his cheek and melted away. 

He looked up, his eyes eagerly scanning the landscape for the culprit, although he didn’t have to strain his eyes with searching. Bakura was easy to make out against the snow in his slate grey coat.

Bakura held up his hands in mock surrender as Malik spotted him. ‘You were done with your hug; it looked like your bonding moment was over.’

‘I was mid-sentence.’

‘It didn’t sound important.’

Malik raised an eyebrow. ‘How could you tell? Did you take a crash course in Arabic when I wasn’t looking?’

‘You know 93% of communication is non-verbal,’ Bakura said, a matching smile on his face as he approached.

‘That’s not what the finding of that study actually meant,’ Ishizu muttered under her breath, although Malik suspected it was more for her own benefit than his.   

‘What do you want, Bakura?’ Malik shouted back, hoping to affect an air of annoyance in his tone.

‘I want to talk.’

‘You threw a snowball at my head.’

‘I was aiming for your shoulder.’

‘Then you have terrible aim,’ Malik said, before calling back. ‘Personally, I preferred when I was getting the fawning treatment.’

Bakura stopped in front of Malik and shrugged. ‘You’re too late for that one; I had the sense knocked back into me.’

‘Good, I hope it hurt.’

Up close now, Bakura was practically glowing. His eyes burnt with a spark of his fight, and he had that shit-eating grin plastered on his face. That grin always infuriated Malik, yet it always seemed to lead to him wiping it off Bakura’s face with angry, eager kisses.

Yet instead he found himself grabbing Bakura close, wrapping his arms about his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. Malik stood there, his vision half obscured by the grey rebellious strands of Bakura’s hair. Confused, giddy thoughts raced around his head as he stood there, holding Bakura, whose arms hung limply at his sides as he waited for the hug to finish.

‘Hi, Ishizu,’ he said flatly. A hand wiggled free to give a short wave.

‘Hello, Bakura,’ 

Malik could hear a little reluctant amusement in her tone, but she said no more. 

Malik and Bakura stood there for some time until Bakura finally pulled back and Malik dipped his mouth down to meet his. 

‘You might wish to avert your eyes, Ishizu-san’ Bakura mumbled with his mouth pressed up against Malik’s lips, which only left Malik chuckling, his shoulders shaking heartily, but his lips were pursed together as he attempted to stifle the laughter. 

‘I was just going to give you two your own privacy,’ Ishizu said, beginning to continue on down the path by herself. ‘Don’t keep him out too late, Bakura,’ she called back.

Bakura rested his forehead against Malik’s as he attempted to compose himself after the laughter.

‘I try to make a heartfelt, grand gesture and you laugh at me?’ Bakura said disgusted. ‘After the past week, does this just not do it for you anymore? Should I have brought rose petals?’

Malik raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this supposed to be your apology?’

‘In a way, yes.’

Malik could feel Bakura’s warm breath gently grace his face while he talked, and he leant in instinctively, his lips brushing against Bakura’s before he leant back again.

‘If you ever do that to me again…’

Bakura nodded. ‘I know.’

‘Just don’t shut me out like that.’

‘It was a stupid thing to do.’

‘And please stop following whatever advice it was that Ishizu gave you.’

‘Malik, I’m agreeing with you,’ Bakura noted pointedly. ‘Trust me, when I say I won’t do anything like that again. I would rather be dragged over broken glass by my—’

Malik cupped his face to interrupt, leaning in as their lips met a second time.

‘Am I getting my telling off now?’

‘Maybe later,’ Malik said, briefly pretending to consider it. ‘But first we need to get indoors. I’m so fucking sick of this snow.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are near the end now!!! Only one more chapter to go. : D
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and a great many thanks are also due to the gorgeous LilyLiegh for helping me with betaing and editing. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always greatly appreciated and thank you to every that has left those so far. : )


	9. 1st January (midnight)

Bakura stared down the water heater as it began to sing out a chipper MIDI rendition of Auld Lang Syne to signal that it had finished its task. The tune ended abruptly when Bakura yanked out its power cord, causing the little LED backlit screen faded to a dull grey. He counted to three and then plugged it back in, thankful that the tune didn’t continue beyond the grave. He poured the hot water into the teapot, and breathed in deeply as he let the blissful silence wash over himself.

Two days and they’d be home again; that was 48 hours, or 2,880 minutes. He turned off the water heater and brought out some cups. It would be 2,879 minutes now, and by the time he’d get to Malik another minute might have passed again. 2,878 minutes at that point – 2,878 minutes until he would be in his own bed again, in his own apartment with Malik at his side and nobody else to interrupt.

Pinching three cups precariously with his fingers, he grabbed the teapot in his other hand and crossed the living area to the cosy nest that Malik had built at the side of the fireplace with cushions and a cashmere throw.

Bakura squatted down beside him and made an attempt at setting the cups down at Malik’s side carefully. Naturally they all managed to slip from him and rolled around in clattering circles to announce his presence.

‘This was Ryou’s work, was it?’ Malik asked. He didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow at the clatter by his side as he perused the dog-eared, crumpled scrap of paper: all that remained of Ryou’s list.

Bakura gave a grunt as confirmation as he set two of the cups upright and swept the third back up off the floor again.

‘He should stick to writing campaigns,’ Malik muttered under his breath. He looked around as he heard Bakura get up and looked expectantly down at his empty cup. ‘Where’s my tea?’

‘In a minute.’ Bakura pushed himself off the floor taking the cup and teapot with him.

‘Why a minute? Where are you going?’

Bakura set on to the front door, lingering for just a second too long at the door handle before he shook the hesitancy from his mind. He gave the front door a shove with his shoulder as he fumbled at the door handle with the hand already clutching a teacup, and staggered onto the porch as the door gave way without warning.

He hopped awkwardly out, and reached his foot out to carefully close the door once more, looking up to see Ishizu watching him carefully from the porch chair.

Their eyes met and she gave a quick nod, before turning back to look up at the night sky, pulling her quilt a little tighter about herself.

Bakura set down the cup, perhaps a little rougher than he’d intended, on the patio table in front of her and poured out a measure of tea.

Ishizu’s eyes darted down to the cup and then back to Bakura, still so careful and watchful. She didn’t reach out to the cup though so Bakura took it and set it down pointedly so that it was closer to her, the more forceful gesture well intended this time.

‘Here.’

Ishizu examined it and then hesitantly took up the cup. ‘Thank you.’

Bakura gave a nod and reached across to grab a handful of dried figs from her plate. ‘Thank _you_.’

She blinked, a little taken aback, but then she smiled, as she held her cup a little closer. ‘You’re very welcome.’

‘You didn’t say anything to Yugi,’ Bakura noted as he picked apart a fig with his fingers. ‘Waiting for the perfect opportunity?’

Ishizu smiled as she cradled her tea cup in her hands. ‘I don’t intend to say anything. It’s not my place.’

Bakura nearly dropped his figs as he stared at her in wonder. He spotted her little smirk before she took a sip of tea. ‘It was never my intention to say anything to Yugi in the first place,’ she clarified. ‘I’m sorry for the deception.’

Bakura’s eyes narrowed. ‘Fuck you.’

Ishizu nodded. ‘I probably deserve that.’

Bakura lingered, looking up at the clutter of stars that littered the deep velvet blue of the twilight sky. It was still and perfect, at least it would be for the next twenty minutes.

‘Bakura, I am sorry for what I said to you that day.’

Bakura turned and saw that she was making an effort to meet his eye. He gave a nod. ‘You should be.’

Ishizu paused, her lips partly open as she stalled on her next sentence. ‘Well… that is why I’m apologising.’

She took a delicate sip of her tea, buying her a little time to consider her next sentence.

‘You shouldn’t meddle in Malik’s life like that,’ Bakura said, playing with the lid of the teapot as he spoke. He looked away before adding, ‘And I should have told you to shove those suggestions up your ass instead of playing along.’

Ishizu closed her eyes, a subdued smile threatening to break out at the corner of her mouth.

‘Perhaps so,’ her expression stilled again and she looked back at Bakura with warm mahogany eyes, ‘but I did put you in an awkward situation, and made some very degrading assumptions about your character. For that, I’m sorry.’

Bakura nodded and swiped a second handful of figs off her plate, throwing them into his mouth.

‘We done?’ he asked, as he chewed on his mouthful.

‘I believe so.’

Bakura picked up the teapot and reached down to take a final handful of figs when the plate darted just out of reach to the tables edge, and a protective hand hid them from view.

‘I want to save some for the others,’ she explained. ‘They’re coming out soon to watch the fireworks. Do you two want to join us?’

Bakura shook his head, as he chewed up the final fig and then swallowed it down. ‘It’s warmer inside and there are blankets.’

Ishizu nodded. ‘If you change your mind—’

‘We won’t.’

Bakura returned back indoors with the teapot and settled down beside Malik, pouring two cups of tea and handing him one.

‘This is laughable,’ Malik said, taking the cup off Bakura’s hands and holding the list up for him to see. ‘I know for certain that Ryou doesn’t even do half of these. Have you seen number nine? “Reply to each message within an hour (or five minutes if instant messaging)”.’

Malik cast a incredulous look over his shoulder. ‘I’m lucky if I can get a reply from Ryou on the same day.’

‘Maybe he just doesn’t like you,’ Bakura suggested, taking a sip of his tea and propping himself up on the pillows so that he could see out the window with relative comfort.

Malik gave him a playful shove, nearly throwing tea down his front, and Bakura responded with a gentle elbow to his side.

‘You asshole, I was about to drink that.’

Bakura grabbed the offending arm and wrestled it back down, pinning it to Malik’s front as he leant in to read over his shoulder.

‘Always offer him some of your food,’ Malik continued to read off. ‘Bit rich coming from the person who guards their chips like a bear… always open the door for him… surprise him regularly with little gifts… use a sweet pet name…’ Malik wrinkled up his nose at the suggestion. ‘Thank the gods you didn’t do that one.’

‘Far too sugary,’ Bakura agreed. ‘I thought _that_ would be going too far.’

‘Chocolates are romantic,’ Malik read out as he continued reading down. ‘Make him breakfast in bed, tell him that you—’

Malik trailed off at point forty two, _Tell him that you love him_. They stared at the little scribbled point in silence for a few painfully long seconds before Bakura attempted to address it.

‘Just because some list says that I should—’

‘It’s fine.’

Malik hurriedly turned the page over, smoothing it out with the side of his hand as it flipped and continued reading. He was silent this time; however it wasn’t long until he choked out a laugh.

‘What?’

‘Don’t just leave him in the wet patch and roll over to sleep afterwards,’ Malik set the page down. ‘Ryou certainly has a very pessimistic imagining of your bedroom skills doesn’t he?’

Bakura grumbled. ‘Well he’s wrong, I don’t do that.’

Malik made a non-committal sound as he picked up his teacup with his free hand. ‘There have been occasions…’

‘When?’

‘A few times,’ Malik said.

‘That’s not specific.’

‘Maybe something just to keep in mind.’ Malik made to take a sip from his cup, but hovered at the rim, a restrained smile breaking out over his lips before he added, ‘He should have put down a rule about not being a pillow princess too.’

‘Okay, say goodbye to your list, Malik,’ Bakura said snatching the piece of paper off the floor, crumpling it into a ball and shooting it across the room. ‘You’ll just have to find some other amusement until the fireworks start.’

‘I was reading that.’

‘And now you’re done.’

Bakura waited for further complaint, but it didn’t come. He peered around over Malik’s shoulder, but he merely looked pensive as he mulled over his tea.

‘It’s a lot of trouble to go to for Ryou’s sake.’

Bakura shrugged ‘I owed him something.’

‘That was the only reason?’

Bakura sighed, it was fifteen minutes to midnight according to his phone, and he did not want to start the new year off with this conversation.

‘I might also have been a little curious to see how you might react when I wasn’t being a thorn in your side,’ Bakura said, he glanced back at Malik. ‘Not well it seems.’

Malik considered this. ‘Ishizu said something hurtful to you.’

‘Ishizu posed a worrying theory,’ Bakura corrected, he made to take another sip of tea, but hovered over the cup a second before lowering it. ‘I didn’t want her to be right.’ He took a gulp of tea and tried avoid Malik’s expression.

‘I didn’t ask Ryou to bring you back as some past demon to punish myself,’ Malik said calmly. ‘You helped me save Rishid, and paid a death of sorts to do so. Offering life to any scraps of humanity that you might have had left only seemed fair. I was just paying a debt.’

Bakura sat back a little, an eyebrow raised. ‘Well, when you say it like that it sounds so romantic.’

Malik shrugged. ‘I just wanted to clear my conscience of that matter; that was all. I owed you a debt, and I paid it back. I didn’t plan on you sticking around, as punishment or… otherwise.’

Malik took another sip of tea.

‘Oh no don’t stop,’ Bakura drawled. ‘Please, tell it again. I nearly swooned.’

Malik chuckled, ‘You know that was all it was ever meant to be. I was very clear from the start.’ He gave a wistful smile. ‘But I’m glad it didn’t turn out that way.’

Bakura gave him an affectionate nudge with his elbow, about to reply when he heard the bedroom doors open and saw Rishid leading the way as Ryou hobbled through the living room, using Yugi as a crutch. His foot was bandaged up tightly all the way to the knee but he wasn’t letting it slow him down and was laughing at some private joke with Yugi.

They stopped just before the hallway as Yugi called back, ‘Malik-kun, Bakura-kun. It’s nearly midnight. Do you want to watch the fireworks with us?’

‘Nope.’

‘We can see them from here,’ Malik assured them. ‘You go on, and Happy New Year!’

There were calls of ‘Happy New Year!’ back as they headed out the door, and Malik checked his phone again. The door closed behind them.

‘Did you realise Yugi knows I’m not Ryou’s cousin?’ Bakura said as Malik put away his phone.

‘Of course I did. It was a pretty lazy explanation,’ Malik said. ‘Anyone would have worked it out.’

He looked across to Bakura with an inquisitive eye. ‘Did you not know?’

Bakura settled himself in the blankets to distract himself. ‘No, I knew, I just wanted to check if you knew.’

He spotted Malik’s smirk reflected in the window pane, but he didn’t comment further as he pulled his phone out again.

‘We’re nearly at midnight,’ Malik noted, settling into a more comfy position. He leant into Bakura for back support as they got a good view out the window, warmed by the heat of the fireplace.

‘Can you get a countdown on that?’ Bakura asked.

Malik wordlessly swiped through his settings to add a seconds timer to the clock, and set the phone up on the side of the _irori_ ’s rim so that the screen was visible.

‘Better?’

They watched the clock wordlessly as it ran down to the final minute, and then there were only seconds left.

‘I’m glad things worked out this way too,’ Bakura admitted. ‘Not this last week, that was hell, but everything else.’

The seconds spilled down, reaching 30 and then slipping into the 20s with ease.

‘I’m glad you’re with me,’ Bakura added on to clarify.

Malik swivelled around a little to try and catch his eye, but the final ten second countdown had begun, announced by the calls of everyone outside.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Malik said

5…4…3…2…1…

Bakura leant in to catch his mouth, perhaps a second before it had officially hit midnight but what difference did it make?

They lost their delicate balance, falling backwards onto the floor. The back of Bakura’s head stung from where he’d managed to hit the floorboards, with only his strewn legs resting on the cushions and tangled with Malik’s. It was messy, but both of them were at least facing each other properly.

Bakura reached up to Malik’s face to catch it with his hand but could see that his shoulders were shaking. His golden hair dropped down to curtain his face and hide his laughter, but Bakura could still hear it.

‘I don’t know why you’re laughing,’ Bakura said, dropping back down onto the floor. ‘You’re the one who fell over.’

‘You pulled me down.’

‘I didn’t.’

Malik sat a little taller, brushing his bangs out of his face to tuck a stray strand behind his ear. He caught Bakura’s gaze and frowned.

‘What?’

Bakura could only find himself laughing too now.

Malik pushed at his shoulder again. ‘What?’

‘I’m not trying to be funny here.’

‘Then why are you laughing?’

Bakura tried to sober himself a little but the smile wouldn’t fade from his face.

‘You’re really going to think I’m joking.’

Malik raised an eyebrow, and leant in further as Bakura struggled to find the words he wanted to say. He rubbed a hand along the side of Malik’s waist as he thought.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way.’

And then Malik smiled.

‘It’s okay, Bakura. I love you too.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's complete! 
> 
> The biggest of thanks are owed to Lilyliegh who has helped me with editing, rewrites of chapters and general advice. Her support has been completely invaluable! And a big thanks is owed to Sitabethel who organised the Thiefshipping Dirty Santa event. This really was so much fun.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos, it really lifts me up when I see the notifications you have no idea. Thank you so so much for reading and I really hope that you enjoyed this one. I can't believe it's done.


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